TeenTix Blog by TeenTix Newsroom

On March 4th, I was invited to Youth Theatre Northwest to observe a tech rehearsal for their production of Chicago: Teen Edition. The show was so fun and well-crafted. I was lucky to also interview the director, music director, and six actors about the production. From cast to crew, every person talked with so much love for their craft; love you can see beaming through the production. 

Chicago is part of YTN’s teen conservatory. The process includes a ten-week acting, singing, and choreography intensive, followed by eight weeks of rehearsal, and two weeks of tech. YTN stands out for being an educational theatre, and the entire show is developed to educate the actors and staff. Director Cory Southwell has been teaching at YTN for fourteen years, learning a new role at the theater every year that has elevated his ability to make great theater. Teen actors have similar experiences. When Southwell and his team put together the two alternating casts, their goal was to challenge actors to grow their acting, dancing, and singing while building a successful show.Photo by Cory Southwell.

Fire comes naturally: the hunger, the ferocity, the need to prove oneself to a world that refuses to hand you the lead role. Water must be learned.

When we think of Bruce Lee, we often conceptualize soaring kicks and cracking nunchucks—spectacle, velocity, and force. Others recall his philosophical richness: the insistence on adaptability, on becoming “like water.” Young Dragon: A Bruce Lee Story carefully balances both perceptions—the fire of ambition and the water in transformation.

With 67 seasons under its belt, Edmonds Driftwood Players has earned a reputation as a reliable community theater in the Pacific Northwest. Their funny, well-performed production of The Outsider earns its applause.

As I sat down in the cozy seats of the Wade James Theatre, I was greeted by a surprise: a pre-show sponsor message styled as a political ad. That brief comedic gag set the tone perfectly. The Outsider is a show that knows it is a political satire first and a comedy second, and it delivers that understanding from the opening seconds.

Quick—name the best performance you have ever seen. What made it so memorable? Was it perfectly produced, endlessly rehearsed, or meticulously written? Or, maybe it was memorable because of its spontaneity? 

The most recent play I’ve watched fit the description of the latter—and I’d argue that it was one of the best performances I have seen. 

A shining figure appears on the organ balcony, overlooking the orchestra and the audience: the leading vocalist, dressed in a vibrant Peking-style Opera costume, with an ornate headpiece that glows under the overhead light. Outside the concert hall, lanterns hang from the ceiling of Benaroya Hall, alongside a large red banner, decorated with a golden horse to celebrate the Lunar New Year. Moments before, the entryway was packed with excited guests, there to celebrate both Lunar New Year and Valentine’s Day, who watch introductory videos of Chinese Opera performances and linger to chat under the warm lights. After the audience took their seats in the symphony hall and the orchestra finished their warm-up, the night’s guest performers entered the stage, wearing brightly-colored dresses, juxtaposing the all-black outfits of the symphony.

Iris Dévoilée (Iris Unveiled), composed by Qigang Chen, mixes together Western orchestra and Peking opera techniques to create a wonderfully unique and breathtaking performance. The performances at the Seattle Symphony, conducted by Music Director Xian Zhang, were the composition's first in the United States since its showing at Carnegie Hall in 2009. The performance is made up of nine vignettes, each conveying a different mood of the main subject, who is portrayed by the renowned soprano Meng Meng. Its title hints at the varied nature of the vignettes: Iris is the Greek goddess of the rainbow, symbolizing both idealized beauty and strength.

Some shows win you over slowly. Li at Seattle Public Theater is not one of those shows. This one has you hooked as soon as the protagonist emerges from the wings, looks you straight in the eye, and says, “Let me introduce myself.” That bold opening sets the tone for a production that uses humor and direct audience connection to explore what it means to feel unseen and how healing can take place in unexpected ways. In a venue as small and close as Seattle Public Theater, Li is able to comfortably break the fourth wall and speak to the audience again and again throughout the show in a natural extension of the space’s intimacy. Ultimately, that intimacy is the heart of the show: since Li speaks directly to us, the production turns the audience into an active part of her journey. As a result, this world premiere feels less like a debut, and more like a fully realized story that thrives on the intimacy of the space and the unfiltered way Li lets us into her world.

Even before the play begins, the environment truly sets the tone and primes you for the intimacy that the show thrives on. A buzzing crowd squeezes through a congested hallway just outside the performance space. Instead of feeling isolated from the story in your seat, simply sitting in the room allows everyone to become part of a shared energy, part of the same narrative they are watching unfold. That sense of communal presence becomes essential once Li, a thief from Inner Mongolia, introduces herself. Played enthusiastically by Adele Lim, Li is our narrator, and throughout the show, she continues to joke with us and confide her worries with us. Our laughter and shock become part of the rhythm of the play, creating a pure feedback loop of joy where the actors and the audience feed off of each other.

Seeing The Peking Acrobats at the Federal Way Performing Arts and Event Center (PAEC) was a thrilling, one-of-a-kind experience, although there were some hiccups. The Peking Acrobats are a Chinese acrobatics performing group that has been touring across the world for over 30 years and have been featured on many news channels. I went on the only night they were performing at the PAEC, or Washington at all for that matter, so I was quite excited to have the opportunity. 

Going in, the PAEC felt more like a movie theater than anything else. There was a small crowd outside, and even a counter selling popcorn and drinks. I first noticed the troupe when I saw two acrobats, a man and a woman, standing at a table near the wall, selling pamphlets. The woman was wearing a Cheongsam, and the man and Tang suit–a traditional Chinese high collared jacket fastened with knots. Most of the acrobats would wear effectively the same costumes throughout the show, with some changes in color. 

Some stories feel like you’ve known them forever. “Cinderella” is a story that will always be associated with certain images: a clock that won’t stop ticking, a family whose cruelty has no bounds, a shoe that only fits one, and a humble wish for kindness to be enough. Often called a tale as old as time, the story is rooted in origins beyond glass slippers. One of its earliest known versions appears in the story of Ye Xian in ninth-century China, where a young girl’s lost golden shoe becomes her exit out of hardship. Across centuries and continents, many cultures have retold this story of hope. Pacific Northwest Ballet’s Cinderella, choreographed by Kent Stowell, adds a sparkle that grounds the story’s familiar magic in memory and motion at a human scale, reshaping the fairy tale as inner transformation.

Before the characters even appear on stage, the word “Cinderella” is spotlighted across the lowered curtain, acting as both an invitation and a subtle warning. The title glows with familiarity, and when the curtain rises, Act I places the real world and the dream world side by side: one in which Cinderella is pushed into servant work by her stepfamily, and another that draws us into her interior life. Act I’s palette leans into dusty blues and faded earth tones, grounding her world in something restrained and practical.

The lights dim and the story unfolds onto a grey void. Two figures walk out towards each other, meeting in the center. One of them, Marrick Smith, plays an eerily joyous tune on the accordion, and the other, Folami Williams, turns to confront the audience. Behind them, a series of photos flash over the grey screen: Germans in airy summer clothing, enjoying the beach, reveling in leisure activities, all while Williams continues throughout with her chipper narration describing life as a non-Jewish German to the audience.

In a sharp turn of events, the audience is presented with images of children wearing swastikas and hordes of people heiling Hitler, an extreme juxtaposition to the shallow but upbeat mood of the actors. Suddenly, a camera flashes, and the room goes dark. 

Have you ever felt transported back in time because of the detailed sets and convincing performances in a play? Directed by Sunam Ellis and starring Becca Q. Co and Seoyoung Park The Heart Sellers takes place in a mid-size city during Thanksgiving 1973. It follows the story of Luna (Co) and Jane (Park) in Luna’s apartment. Over the course of the show, the two become close as they bond over the struggles of being immigrants in an unfamiliar country after the passing of the Hart-Celler Act, a law passed in 1965 that changed U.S. immigration policy and allowed more immigrants from Asia, Africa, and Latin America to enter the country. Also, they discover similarities in each other’s lives as well as their longing to see their families in Korea and in the Philippines. Incorporating themes such as friendship, family, and courage, The Heart Sellers represents the transcending of cultural and linguistic barriers by creating marvelous set design, elaborate costumes, and showcasing fabulous performances by the leading actresses.

To begin with, the audience was transported into 1973 through Luna’s small apartment. Clothes were scattered across the floor and magazines piled in front of the retro 70s television. The outside of the apartment surrounded the central set, making it so the audience felt they had a snapshot into the setting’s inner workings. Throughout the show, the two women talked more about their lives and became friends. It provided the necessary space for the characters to develop and move through the plot. However, I felt my mind starting to drift due to the lack of set variety in each scene, causing me to miss pieces of dialogue or monologues.

It is rare to see the tremors from a passing memory fully reflected on someone's face. Rarer still to watch the memory play out in their mind. With a small but talented cast and a stage that lies amidst the audience in unique intimacy, Taproot Theater’s production of Till We Have Faces provides an opportunity to do both simultaneously.

This play is the premier adaptation of C.S. Lewis’s novel of the same name, which reimagines the myth of Psyche and Cupid. In the original myth, Psyche is sacrificed by her people and rescued by the god Cupid. She becomes his bride but is forbidden to see his face when he visits each night. Her sister, envious of Psyche, convinces Psyche to betray Cupid's trust by looking at him. This causes Psyche to be exiled, forced by Aphrodite to complete tasks in order to be reunited with Cupid. Written by Karen Lund and directed by Marianne Savell, the show not only captures the essence of Lewis’s story, which explores sisterhood, identity, and what it really means to love sacrificially, but also enriches it through visual metaphor and excellent acting. 

Arguably one of the most famous glassblowers in the world, Seattleite Dale Chihuly is known for pushing the boundaries of glass with his unique style and incredible skill. From intricate sculptures of sea life to grandiose chandeliers, Chihuly Garden and Glass invites the public into Chihuly's world of glassblowing artistry in a truly beautiful and unique way.  

The journey through the museum was truly an adventure, in the way that each turn brought something completely new. Each exhibit had its own unique atmosphere, showcasing the glass art in a different way. The Sealife room centered a huge sculpture representing the Puget sound surrounded by smaller pieces of different underwater elements. The Chandelier room showcased detailed colorful sculptures hanging from the ceiling, each one different from the next. Winter Brilliance highlighted clear, spiky pieces manipulated by colorful lights, conjuring the image of icicles in the winter sun. The variety shown throughout really highlighted Chihuly's versatility as an artist, as well as the versatility of the medium. Glass is essentially a clear, blank canvas, but he brought it to life through shapes and color, conveying complex meaning and sparking emotion in every piece. Winter Brilliance. Photo by Donovan Olsen.

Two men in black suits of different styles sit in plain chairs, small in the center of the stage. The first man wears a vest, the way his dark curly hair is styled is evocative of the pop star charm this classical tenor is famous for. The second man walks on with an acoustic guitar in his hands and a vestless suit vaguely reminiscent of 70s style clothing. The guitarist, Sean Shibe, begins to tune his instrument. The lights of the stage catch on the face of singer Karim Sulayman as he looks up. As Shibe’s playing began to fill the sparse stage, Sulayman’s bright smile lit up his face. There is a kind humanity that everyone in the audience can see. It makes the audience smile with him.  

Sulayman and Shibe’s performance of their classical album Broken Branches at the Meany Center for the Performing Arts was a beautiful ode to the power music has to connect people. Through the album, the musicians aimed to explore their identities as Eastern musicians who grew up in the west. With classical music being historically perceived as a Western creation, these artists attempt to select songs that will reconcile this notion. As classical musicians, creating such music is the rebellious act of breaking down the false binary of East and West and connecting to the humanity in all of us.

Localities / An Odyssey Part 2 is a fascinating performance that revolutionized my understanding of the boundaries of dance. Localities was choreographed by Donald Byrd as the second part of his project based on his unpublished memoir. His art often focuses on themes of social justice, and this performance was no exception. 

The first thing I noticed was the venue. I had been expecting an ornate, traditional opera house. Instead, I saw the performance on closing night in the small, intimate setting of the Tricia Stromberg Studio Theater. Localities was an amazingly beautiful and personal experience.

Legendary Children are fearless—beaming endlessly with confidence and stride, shaping the conversation of art—while pioneering unflinching change. Legendary children rise under any circumstances.

As I entered the Seattle Art Museum, I was immediately enraptured by the garments surrounding me. Every attendee was adorned in eloquent, vibrant clothing. Beside them, I felt almost undressed, standing in quiet awe. I had never witnessed a crowd so effortlessly fashionable. Even before the night began, I knew the Legendary Children would be sensational—but once the music swelled and the crowd parted, anticipation gave way to reverence as the legendary performances unfolded before me.

The creature looks strange at first—its pink felt body stretches across the exhibition like a soft form from a fever dream. Although initially daunting, I take a seat on its back area and grip the rope; the creature begins to move back and forth. The room stays quiet but the mood changes as soon as the experience starts. This is Toxic Beauty: Okenia Rosacea Nudibranch at Cannonball Arts.

Cannonball Arts has an open layout. The bare walls, concrete floors, and expansive area makes the space feel easy to move through. There is no pressure to stay quiet or act formal. Visitors drift from piece to piece, as if they are swimming under the sea. The gallery gives room for curiosity without judgment through contemporary art.

The Nutcracker is one of the most notable holiday staples in all of ballet. Through its angelic symphony, classic choreography, and its magical touch of the Christmas spirit, the Nutcracker is a show you won’t want to miss during the winter season. 

But it’s not merely a Christmas tradition, it's a crucial aspect of the Seattle community. At the Vashon Center for the Arts, the performance was built on the extensive efforts from community members, truly supplying the foundations of the magical wonderland that makes the Nutcracker so special to so many families around the Seattle area. This beloved holiday tradition, due to its magical Christmas setting, its role in popularizing German nutcracker toys, and its function as a family tradition introducing generations to ballet and classical music, is regarded as a cultural fixture in the holiday season. It is beautiful and heartwarming to see parents who once attended the ballet as children now bringing their own, demonstrating just how vital this cultural cornerstone is to Seattle families.

Stepping into Benaroya Hall, home of the Seattle Symphony, at Christmastime has its own kind of magic. The warm glow of the lights, the hum of conversation, and everyone dressed in red and green create the sense that you’re about to witness something special. But instead of a traditional symphony performance, this particular night promised something different: a unique, immersive live-to-film concert accompanying The Muppet Christmas Carol. This 1992 film is a retelling of the classic Dickens holiday tale about miserable old Ebenezer Scrooge (Michael Caine), who is visited by three spirits on Christmas Eve—the ghosts of Christmas past, present, and future—which causes him to see the error of his selfish ways and embrace the true meaning of Christmas with love and generosity. The film features beloved Muppet characters like Kermit the Frog as Bob Cratchit, Miss Piggy as Emily Cratchit, and Gonzo as narrator Charles Dickens, balancing the dark Victorian tale with humor and charm, making it endlessly re-watchable for kids and adults alike. 

As we took our seats in the middle of the main floor, the anticipation was palpable. It was such a special feeling to be surrounded by different people who were all connected by their love for this film, and it hadn’t even started yet. Finally, the lights began to dim, and the conductor, Thiago Tiberio, walked onstage. Tiberio specializes in live-to-film synchronization concerts all over the world and is widely praised for his advanced technique and musicianship. If I didn’t already feel confident that we were in for something special, I certainly did then.

Warning: this review contains light spoilers.

Is a story about 9/11 still meaningful to people who weren’t alive when it happened?

No one wants to work for a sleazy boss and have to argue for equal pay, but if I ever do, I'd want the smart, funny women in 9 to 5 as my colleagues. The Village Theatre’s production of 9 to 5 is a comedic, women-led effort to take on workplace inequality. Well known as a film, the musical features a book by Patricia Resnick, with music and lyrics by renowned country singer Dolly Parton. Although the story was first written in 1980, it still resonates today.

Set in 1979, 9 to 5 follows three secretaries—Violet, Doralee, and Judy—as they sing and dance their way through revenge against their sexist, egotistical boss, challenging the cultural norms that limit their professional opportunities. Initially, their workplace life at Consolidated Industries is bleak. For women, there is no hope for a raise or promotion and no sense of camaraderie. But when Violet, Doralee, and Judy realize they have a common enemy in their boss, they unite to improve the workplace.