It’s difficult to be cynical about post-Expo spaces like the Seattle Center when they’re so successfully integrated in and activated by the urban fabric, especially when you compare them to the legacies of Expos like Montreal’s. And Folklife itself is an admittedly impressive enmeshment of the very best of Northwest granola culture with the most humanizing of atomic age modernism. I almost can’t stand admitting this.
It’s hard to believe that this thing has been going on for 53 years. And this was my first time here.
It was especially impressive to me how formally Folklife embraced the Palestinian cause. The march wasn’t just passing through; it was part of the programming itself. One festival coordinator was helping organizers troubleshoot the schedule delays and would later announce that, while this may be the first Palestinian folklore showcase in Folklife’s 53 years, it won’t be the last. Everyone cheered.
It’s very easy to get cynical about this company town, with its fake-nice liberalism and passive-aggressive everything, but sometimes, you do catch glimmers of hope, and it feels good to call Seattle home.
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This is Richard. I don’t usually edit my photos this heavily, but when someone’s this gracious and happy to be photographed, you feel like making it pop. Or at least try to. I guess I need to edit more to know what I’m doing!
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I have no idea what this mushroom lady is about or what she was doing here, and Christine found her more creepy than cute, but I was quite honestly mesmerized, and tried to photograph her a couple of times while a bagpipe blared in my ear. I couldn’t do it. I guess it’s like trying to merge on the highway with the radio on; you get all squinty and stressed. So, we walked away, looking for something to eat. When we circled back a little bit later, the bagpiper was taking a break and these two were dancing to a beat I couldn’t hear. I took my chance. There it was: a split second of pure joy.