The Weekly Wire: The Week's Recommended Events

THURSDAY 5/19 Beer: Red Ales in the Sunset It's time for Seattle Beer Week, which actually has 11 days. During that time, beer lovers and brewmasters will celebrate the importance of suds. Events are spread throughout the city—meaning that wherever you live, one of them will be within walking distance (i.e., no need to drive afterward). Pub crawls, beer-tasting bike tours, dinners, and seminars are on the SBW agenda. Founded by Matthew Younts and Ian Roberts, the 3-year-old fest has a daunting schedule, with roughly a dozen events each day. Where to start? The official kickoff is tonight at Ballard's Maritime Pacific Brewing Co., which brewed this year's official beer, a strong ale called Decompression. Maritime head brewer Corey Blodgett says, "The color is designed to remind you of the sun setting beyond the Olympics to the west." We'll drink to that. (Through May 29.) Maritime Pacific Brewing Co., 1111 N.W. Ballard Way, Free (21 and over). 5:30 p.m. SONJA GROSET Dance: Moving Company Ángel Corella has great ballet cred—reviews of his 15-year career with American Ballet Theater are stuffed with superlatives, in both classical and contemporary works. He was originally trained in Spain, but when it came time to go professional, there wasn't a classical ballet company in his home country. So he came to the U.S., and their loss is our gain. A Seattle performance by a dancer of his caliber would be a "run, don't walk" event in any situation, but he's also bringing his latest project, Corella Ballet Castilla y León, a touring ensemble designed to fill the classical gap in the Spanish cultural landscape. So instead of going home again, Corella is taking his new home on the road, with repertory by Clark Tippet, Ashley Page, and that current "savior of ballet," Christopher Wheeldon. Altogether, this first local visit by Corella Ballet should be a juicy evening in the theater. (Through Sat.) Meany Hall (UW campus), 543-4880, $20–$46. 8 p.m. SANDRA KURTZ FRIDAY 5/20 Film: Shock Cuts Sergei Eisenstein's 1925 bombshell The Battleship Potemkin was cinema history's third great game-changer, after The Birth of a Nation and The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. Just 27 when he directed this montage-powered expression of kino-revolutionary fervor, Eisenstein was the original film intellectual to come to power. Commissioned to mark the 20th anniversary of the failed 1905 revolution, Potemkin made history—literally. Eisenstein used his new form of agitational montage to celebrate mass action and collective heroism. Shot on location, entirely with non-actors, Potemkin was designed to look like a newsreel and function as a drama—if "drama" is the word to describe the hysteria of the movie's key scene, a massacre set on the steps leading down to Odessa's harbor. The power and violence of editing has never been better demonstrated than by this space-pulverizing, time-distending, emotionally alarming barrage of two-second shots, half of them close-ups. In some ways, the movie is a war of machines—liberated battleship versus robot Czarist army. (A new 35mm print runs through Thurs.) Northwest Film Forum, 1515 12th Ave., 267-5380, $6–$9. 7 p.m. J. HOBERMAN Visual Arts: Swedish Shelter The classic European beach tent, brightly striped and festive, might not seem like a proper venue for a serious art gallery. The round canvas enclosure is only big enough to change into your swimsuit, yet visiting Stockholm artists Jean Ploteau and Johanna Ringertz have filled one with a small array of works, and you're encouraged to crowd inside with your friends. But it's a cloud-patterned tent also appreciated from the outside, since it's set within the larger gallery housing their installation Day Dreams and Night Realities. You're squeezed into intimacy with the paintings—as with a magazine-photo collage, of altered portraits of artists in their studios, that Ploteau has placed in an uncomfortably tight passage between two walls. You're forced to look closer. (Hey, why do those guys all look the same?) Over in her corner, Ringertz's painted tarp seems to pour text onto the floor, where the words—based on the dreamy misapprehension of LED alarm numerals—congeal into little black stones on the floor. Or beach, depending on your frame of reference. (Through May 28.) Shift Collaborative Studio, 306 S. Washington St., Ste. 105 (Tashiro Kaplan Building), 547-1215, Free. Noon–5 p.m. (Repeats Sat.) BRIAN MILLER Film: Metal Forever For all its Camaros, feathered mullets, Spandex pants, and sleeveless concert Ts, Heavy Metal Parking Lot is more than just an amusing time capsule. Filmed outside a 1986 Judas Priest concert in Maryland, the 15-minute documentary is a crucial anthropological document of a universe where the tenets of sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll are sacrosanct, a place where all of life can be divided into that which rules (Priest, Iron Maiden, Ozzy, Jack Daniels) and that which sucks (punk shit, Madonna). Co-directors John Heyn and Jeff Krulik let the camera do all the work, wisely ceding control to the frightening cast of revelers; you're not likely to forget Zebra Boy or Gram O' Dope ("They should make a joint so big that it reaches all the way across America and everybody could smoke it!"). In short, Heavy Metal Parking Lot rules! Fuckin'-A! (The film begins tonight's Found Footage Festival; curators Joe Pickett and Dick Prueher will attend and introduce their oddball discoveries.) Central Cinema, 1411 21st Ave., 686-6684, $10. 7 and 10 p.m. PAUL FONTANA SUNDAY 5/22 Sports: Rolling Rocks The four-team Rat City Rollergirls league that regularly sells out KeyArena's lower bowl is a long way removed from its local roots. Ten miles, to be precise. For as the league's moniker suggests, it held its first bouts at the 300-capacity Southgate Roller Rink in White Center (aka Rat City) in 2004. "White Center is a great little pocket of culture—it transports you before you come into the rink," recalls former Grave Danger skater Sandy Glaze (derby name: "Ann Munition"). Southgate, she adds, "smelled like old '70s carpet. It was such a visceral experience. You were landing in fans' laps, and it's really hard to get back up when you're in a pool of beer." It wasn't long before the Rollergirls grew out of the rink, and Southgate went dark as the Rollergirls helped fill the Sonics' void up north. Yet Southgate reopened on April 7 with the promise of frequent Rollergirl reunions, the first of which comes this Sunday morning, as the league's all-stars face a team from Texas. There are no Pabst kegs at Southgate (yet), and the musty carpet smell has been eradicated (for now). But it still marks a gleeful homecoming for White Center's hometown heroines. Southgate Roller Rink, 9657 17th Ave. S.W. (White Center), 707-6949. See for price. 10 a.m. MIKE SEELY TUESDAY 5/24 Music: Enduringly Unflashy When we talk about "guitar heroes," the name Bucky Pizzarelli is seldom mentioned. He's not a fiery soloist or flashy showman. Instead, Pizzarelli—whose style is deeply indebted to Django Reinhardt—made his reputation in jazz as a tasteful sideman during the early '50s, complementing bandleaders like Benny Goodman, Zoot Sims, and Stéphane Grappelli (Django's old partner) with pure finesse. Now in his mid-80s, with son John Pizzarelli the biggest celebrity in his family, Bucky offers a glimpse into the postwar era of small-combo jazz, when songs jumped joyfully and waltzed romantically. Performing tonight with bassist Jeff Johnson and drummer D'Vonne Lewis, he offers an important lesson: The greatest musicians are often the greatest listeners. Pizzarelli Sr. treats his sidemen with the utmost respect, never trying to outdo them. He's got a relaxed sense of rhythm, even when playing the swingingest of tunes. (Through Wed.) Dimitriou's Jazz Alley, 2033 Sixth Ave., 441-9729, $22.50. 7:30 p.m. BRIAN J. BARR

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