Former Seattle artist Eric Eley's father, grandfather, and great-grandfather were in the military, but Eley never considered joining up. His room-sized installation in theater is a handmade battlefield. It presents forms for aesthetic delectation that are otherwise utilitarian—a net of fabric strips based on aerial camouflage tents, rows of white-cross barricades. It is a way of expressing Eley's melancholic distance from his family's legacy and the wars going on now—a strong, sad work, its atomized/exploded form also suggesting the simple fact that things fall apart. (Suyama Space, 2324 Second Ave, 256-0809, 9 am–5 pm, free)