The Stranger

For years, The Stranger has published Poster of the Week as a way of acknowledging that art is not just for galleries and museums. The only rule is that the poster has to be for a rock show happening the week the paper comes out. Now about 50 selections—chosen by Stranger art director Aaron Huffman—get their own gallery show. The full-color, nonfaded, non-telephone-poled, thick-papered, hand-printed versions of designs by regulars like Jeff Kleinsmith, Nat Damm, and Chris Rollins will be there, protected from the weather, in all their glory. Long live poster art! (Vermillion, 1508 11th Ave, 709-9797. 4 pm–late, free. Through April 2.) by Jen Graves

Link  |  Post Comment (0)

The first collages at the start of the 20th century were an attempt to break painting out of its frame and into the real world by invading it with, say, newspaper and chair caning (Picasso, circa 1912). A hundred years later, everybody is a collage arti st, and a truly great collage, one that actually feels fresh, is hard to come by. Canadian artist Paul Butler and Heini Aho of Finland are exceptions: His postsurrealist cuts go all the way down to negative space; she makes video collages of landscapes where disparate people and props are trying like hell to relate. (Platform Gallery, 114 Third Ave S, 323-2808. 11 am–5:30 pm, free.) by Jen Graves

Link  |  Post Comment (0)

Circus Contraption's Show to End All Shows is just that: After 10 years, America's best gutter-vaudeville/cirque-noir troupe is calling it quits. (And I stand behind that "best." The Yard Dogs, the Bindlestiffs, and the rest of them can eat a juggling pin.) The Show to End All Shows ditches CC's dusty, turn-of-the-century aesthetic for '70s flash, but the essentials remain: awesome circus acts, gently lewd humor, and a fantastic circus band that sounds like Tom Waits getting lost in the Balkans. This is your last chance to see Circus Contraption, an essential chunk of Americana that teeters, like the rest of the country, on the brink of annihilation. (Theo Chocolate, 3400 Phinney Ave N, www.brownpapertickets.com. 8 pm, $20–$25. Through May 31.) by Brendan Kiley

Link  |  Post Comment (4)

This weekend, WSDOT will close the Alaskan Way Viaduct for inspections and, as a bonus, will conduct public tours of Seattle's most embattled piece of architecture. The viaduct is Seattle's concrete corset, holding its commercial flab of glass and steel from tumbling into Puget Sound. The 45-minute tours will show off the structure's seams: sinking sections, post-Nisqually-earthquake braces, and plastic crack monitors that measure how quickly it's falling apart. See it now, while it's still standing. (Tours 9:30 am–noon, enter at the Columbia Street on-ramp. Reservations required: E-mail viaduct@wsdot.wa.gov.) by Brendan Kiley

Link  |  Post Comment (4)

Right before intermission, right when Lucifer himself—dressed smartly, of course—has trapped our alcoholic antihero into playing a card game for his soul, "The Wild Cats of Kilkenny," a lively instrumental by the Pogues, rips over the loudspeakers. It's the perfect song for this Irish play. The Seafarer, like the Pogues, is relentlessly contemporary but steeped in old mythology. It's also poetic, melancholy, and swollen with booze. The characters, excepting Lucifer, are all drunks in a filthy living room on Christmas Eve. Their hearts are battlegrounds where bitterness fights with reckless optimism. But when Richard—old, blind, reeking—calls Lucifer "one maudlin fucker," we know which side will win. (Seattle Repertory Theatre, 155 Mercer St, 443-2222. 2 pm, $15–$55. Through March 28.) by Brendan Kiley

Link  |  Post Comment (1)

White Magic leader Mira Billotte possesses an unforgettable voice—a pastoral siren's husky tone pitched somewhere between those of Karen Dalton and Nico. She also plays piano and guitar, creating a slowly rollicking brand of mystical folk that'll send trepidatious chills down your spine. Her songs possess beautiful melodic contours, but they're skewed and imbued with a sweet dread. She and her band lure you into a dangerously seductive aural web. (Chop Suey, 1325 E Madison St, 324-8000. 8 pm, $8 adv/$10 DOS, 21+.) by Dave Segal

Link  |  Post Comment (2)