Seattle is weird. So weird, in fact, that when I got invited to a Nickelback-themed burlesque show, I didn’t think twice or look too closely at the date of the performance. So I arrived a month early. Leaving me an event short for my article in Real Change about how Seattle is weird.
But, as I said, Seattle is weird and therefore I was able to find a replacement event within 10 minutes. In fact, on Saturday, June 22, Seattle was determined to show off just how kooky it was. The question was now, did it work?
I started my day with a subversive, not-your-grandma’s craft and vintage fair. Walking into the Punk Rock Flea Market was meeting the child of a 1990s anime convention, a holiday crafts bazaar and the best illegal artist you know. The Flea Market was held in the old Capitol Hill 15th Avenue QFC (short for, they say, the Quality Flea Center), now covered in graffiti inside and out by artists whose work you’ve seen all over the city. This was my second time visiting, and the highlight of both has been the opportunity to meet my favorite graffiti artists and support them directly. I even got to watch as a certain graffiti bear was drawn on someone’s shoes right in front of me. (Reminder to self: bring a blank T-shirt next time??)
The market has been running since 2006, and while it’s labeled punk rock, it has gone maybe a little establishment; there’s even Flea Market merch available near the entrance. I heard one person complain it had been over-advertised, leading to the long line outside. However, while it was busy, I only saw attendees thoroughly enjoying themselves. Someone else told a vendor that they loved this place because “it’s like a thrift store I made up in my head.” The space didn’t feel cramped to me, and I was able to see everything pretty easily. The lines of booths and shops wound throughout the gutted store, into the backrooms and out again, with each turn revealing a new artist, artisan or thrifter. I even found the bathrooms, thanks to the tags showing me the way, and enjoyed in the stall a rare piece from my favorite artist.
I wish I could have given each booth at the flea market a solid five minutes, but I couldn’t stay forever, because I needed to get to Fremont.
The Fremont Solstice Festival and Parade are, I’d say, one of the weirder things the city does. As of just last June, it is legal to be naked in Seattle, but that doesn’t mean it happens often or that seeing tons of painted naked people on bikes isn’t still a bit of a jarring experience. Or so I hear. Unfortunately, I timed things poorly and realized as I was looking for a parking spot in Fremont that the hordes of people I saw were not walking toward but away from the parade route.
The Festival is not just the parade, though: I wandered up and down the many blocked-off streets, looking at booths and being tempted by fair food. And I did get to see some floats still up at the end of the route, and there were hints of previous nudity, with paint peeking from under the clothing of otherwise unassuming people in the crowd.
As I strolled and took in the crystals decorating a few faces and flowers adorning a couple of heads (although I gathered the flowers may have been in the parade, and I admit my opinion of the whole Festival would probably be different if I had seen it), I was mostly disappointed by the normality of it all. I could be at any summer festival in any town and see the same honey, hats and wall hangings. Maybe I wouldn’t see the signs for talismans or custom bongs, but henna would be available. I left the Fremont Festival thinking maybe it just wasn’t for me, and that’s OK. (I’ll have Pride next weekend.)
After a few hours relaxing in a hammock near Green Lake — another classic Seattle weirdo thing to do, I think — I made my way to Theatre Off Jackson in the International District for the cherry atop the day’s weird sundae: the 25th volume of the Fussy Cloud Puppet Slam. This time, the theme was simply “queer edition;” host, local artist and performer Tootsie Spangles confided in us early on that it meant “we’re gonna get real weird tonight” but also that queers liked to get into their emotions. The specific way she bonded the audience together involved reminding us that queers have two things in common: one of them was childhood trauma, and the other is something I don’t think I can write about in Real Change.
I’d say that I wasn’t sure how much puppets would appeal to the general Seattle audience, but when Tootsie asked the new people in the crowd to raise their hands, easily 80% of us were first-timers, so, if nothing else, I think puppets appeal to weird and/or queer Seattle. The night consisted of 10 performances by puppeteers, starting with a bright pink, three-foot-high vulva that moved its lips along with its speech about the Vibratron 69,000 and eventually bringing the audience along rides into queer history, personal growth and not one but two seagull-themed pieces. And we loved every moment of it.
When you think of a puppet, you may imagine either a hand puppet or something like one of the Muppets (which are called hand-and-rod), but the variety on stage at the Puppet Slam was surprising, teaching me a lot about the forms and art of puppetry. There were two demonstrations of “crankie” puppetry, which is when a backlit screen is moved, or cranked, between two rods to show a changing scene, often with other elements added or puppetted throughout. Both of these pieces — “Superbat” by Mx Chizwitch and “New but Familiar” by Lindsey Ball — were among my favorites of the night. Ball’s work about becoming a queer elder touched my heart in a way I didn’t think could happen after, just moments before, laughing uproariously at “A Duet” by Keziah Peterson and Juniper Peterson, whose puppets were literally the fuzzy coats on their backs.
Local artist Esjay The Dreamer’s presentation took the crowd’s breath away. She danced with dragon puppets that swirled and caught in the air like living things, and the story she told of strength and trusting yourself was stunning. She made aerial work look impressively easy, especially in such a small space as Theatre Off Jackson.
The themes of self-acceptance and love were strong throughout the night, ending with “Limited Edition Pride Baggage Now Available in Matching Shades of Rainbow and Depression” by Miss Texas 1988 (with assistance by Shiloh Davies and Artie Thomas). Miss Texas 1988 is another local artist who pulled out all the stops when it came to types of puppets. Singing suitcases are one thing, but the ingenuity and humanity imbued in George, Miss Texas 1988’s erstwhile lover in the scene, was both hilarious and impressive. I just wanted to watch that puppet move forever. Some of that is, obviously, also due to Davies’ and Thomas’s puppetry and vocalizations; the whole team helped end the Puppet Slam with a bang.
The Fussy Cloud Puppet Slam is part of the Puppet Slam Network, which is a sentence I’m mesmerized by. The network is an international community of puppet slams and began in 2005. There are three Puppet Slam groups in Washington: Fussy Cloud in Seattle, Socks On My Hands Puppet Slam in Tacoma and the Bellingham Puppet Slam. Homes for experimental art are everywhere.
As I wandered from Capitol Hill to Fremont to the International District, I found plenty of these homes. Not everything was for me, but not everything has to be. Seattle offers enough weirdness to go around, from bicycling naked to tagging old QFCs to slamming some puppets together. Seattle keeps being inspired to new weird heights, and it’s in our weirdness that we find authenticity.
Henry Behrens is the Real Change arts editor and a weirdo.
Henry Behrens is the Arts Editor of Real Change. They handle the arts coverage and design the weekly print paper. Contact them at [email protected].
Read more of the June 26-July 2, 2024 issue.