Gracie Hall has not been located, and Gresham police continue to ask anyone with information about her whereabouts to call 911.
GRESHAM, OR – Investigators say Gracie Hall has not been located, and Gresham police continue to ask anyone with information about her whereabouts to call 9-1-1.
Gresham Police say the missing 15-year-old who was last seen leaving her Gresham High School in the 1200 block of N Main Avenue just after 7;00 a.m. on Monday and has not been seen since. Gracie is described as a White female with brown hair, she stands 5-feet and 6-inches tall, and she weighs about 130 pounds.
Gracie Hall has not been located, and Gresham police continue to ask anyone with information about her whereabouts to call 911.
Gracie was last seen wearing a blue hoodie with palm trees, blue jeans, and black and white Nike shoes. Gracie’s family is concerned because she is missing her medication.
EUGENE, Ore. – A Springfield man has been arrested for allegedly embezzling approximately $50,000 from a Bethel-area youth football league while serving as its treasurer.
Ean Douglas Lynum, 38, was taken into custody on Sept. 10 following an investigation by the Eugene Police Department’s Property and Financial Crimes Unit. He faces charges of first-degree aggravated theft and misapplication of entrusted property.
Police said the theft drained the league’s entire fund balance, leaving the youth participants without money for essential gear and equipment.
Due to Lynum’s involvement in other local sports programs, investigators believe there could be additional unreported incidents.
PORTLAND, Ore. (KOIN) — Cornelius City Councilor John Colgan is under criticism for a post he made about Charlie Kirk’s death on Facebook.
“Hearing that Charlie Kirk got shot and died really brightened up my day,” Colgan said in the post. “Nobody deserves it, but some are asking for it.”
Colgan is also a science teacher at Neil Armstrong Middle School in Forest Grove, according to the school’s website.
He was elected to the Cornelius City Council in January 2023. He served previously from January 2019 to December 2022.
As first reported by WIRED, right-wing activists and influencers nationwide have been sharing identifying information of anyone they view as celebrating the death of conservative activist Charlie Kirk. Kirk was shot and killed while speaking at a Utah university on Wednesday.
In an email, a spokesperson for the Forest Grove School District said they had been made aware of inflammatory comments shared by Colgan on his private social media account while off duty.
“The District does not condone violence nor the celebration of violence,” the statement said. “Our top priority is to protect the right of students to a safe and welcoming learning environment, and our policies prohibit the sharing or teaching of personal political views in our school classrooms.”
John Colgan did not immediately respond to an email request for comment.
The FBI now has the rifle used in yesterday’s assassination of the most prominent millennial conservative commentator in America and that means they should soon have his killer in custody.
Charlie Kirk died when a single bullet from that 30-06 Mauser tore out his throat as he sat in front of thousands of college students at Valley University in Orem, Utah.
Kirk founded Turning Point USA a dozen years ago and spoke to college crowds regularly. And he knew that his free speech made him a target for the political left.
He recently warned “at the core of a liberal is a person who would use the sword if they have it. They are very violent people”.
Earlier this year, a survey found 55 percent of self-identified liberals believe the murder of public figures is justified.
Politicians on the left egg them on. VP candidate Tim Walz talks about “Donald Trump’s modern day Gestapo.” Less than 20 years have passed since Barack Obama told a Philly rally “if they bring a knife to a fight, we bring a gun”.
We have seen the attempted assassination of a congressman, a man with a gun outside the home of a Supreme Court Justice, two attempted assassinations of President Trump…and now, Charlie Kirk.
NEW YORK (AP) — Nearly a quarter century has passed since the Sept. 11, 2001, attacks, but for many, the emotions of the day remain raw as ever.
On Thursday, America marked the 24th anniversary of the deadly attacks with solemn ceremonies in New York, at the Pentagon and in Shanksville, Pennsylvania. The commemorations were punctuated by moments of silence, the tolling of bells and the reading of the names of the nearly 3,000 killed.
“Even 24 years later, it’s heart-wrenching,” said Jennifer Nilsen, who wore a T-shirt emblazoned with an image of her husband, Troy Nilsen, as she attended the commemoration at ground zero in lower Manhattan. “It feels the same way every year.”
Michelle Pizzo, wearing a shirt with the image of her late husband, Jason DeFazio, said she hoped more people could take a minute to reflect on the day.
“Younger kids don’t realize that you have to remember,” she said.
Emma Williamson, 20, of Massachusetts, made a point to travel from her college uptown to stand near ground zero, where two memorial pools ringed by waterfalls and parapets inscribed with the names of the dead mark the spots where the twin towers once stood.
“I wasn’t born when it happened, but it was really an important day in America,” she said. “It’s kind of the last time we all stuck together, and that matters.”
The reading of names and moments of silence
The 9/11 anniversary, often promoted as a day of national unity, came during a time of increased politician tension.
The assassination of conservative activist Charlie Kirk at a Utah college a day earlier prompted additional security measures at ground zero, where FBI Director Kash Patel was among the dignitaries in attendance.
Vice President JD Vance and his wife, second lady Usha Vance, had planned to attend but instead are set to visit with Kirk’s family on Thursday in Salt Lake City, according to a person familiar with Vance’s plans, but not authorized to speak about them publicly.
Many in the crowd at ground zero held up photos of lost loved ones as a moment of silence marked the exact time when the first hijacked plane struck the iconic twin towers.
Loved ones then read aloud the names of the victims, with many giving personal remembrances, well wishes and updates on their lives.
Zoe Doyle, daughter of Frank Joseph Doyle, said her family created a nonprofit in his honor that’s built schools in South Africa and is feeding and educating thousands of children.
Manuel DaMota Jr. said he remembers his father and namesake, Manuel DaMota, not just with grief, but with gratitude for the example he set.
“In a world filled with division and conflict, I do my best to honor my father by choosing connection, empathy and hope,” he said.
Melissa Pullis, whose husband Edward Pullis died in the towers, said this year is more difficult than others because two of the couple’s three children are getting married.
“You can’t walk your princess down the aisle,” she said through tears. “You are missed every day. We will always say your name, and we will always fight for justice.”
Ceremonies in Virginia and Pennsylvania honor victims
At the Pentagon in Virginia, the 184 service members and civilians killed when hijackers steered a jetliner into the headquarters of the U.S. military were honored in a ceremony attended by President Donald Trump and first lady Melania Trump.
The president, in his remarks, recounted moments from that day, including snippets of conversations from passengers who were aboard the hijacked airplanes.
“Today, as one nation, we renew our sacred vow that we will never forget Sept. 11, 2001,” Trump said during the observance, which took place in an internal courtyard of the building rather than its traditional location outside its walls near the building’s 9/11 memorial.
“The enemy will always fail,” he added. “We defy the fear, endure the flames.”
The president, who was expected to attend a New York Yankees game in the Bronx on Thursday evening, also announced Kirk would be posthumously awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom, calling him a “giant of his generation” and a “champion of liberty.”
And in a rural field near Shanksville, Pennsylvania, a ceremony attended by Veterans Affairs Secretary Doug Collins honored the victims of Flight 93, the hijacked plane that crashed after crew members and passengers tried to storm the cockpit.
Elsewhere, people marked the anniversary with service projects and charitable works as part of a national day of service. Volunteers took part in food and clothing drives, park and neighborhood cleanups, blood banks and other community events.
Reverberations from attacks persist
In all, the attacks by al-Qaida militants killed 2,977 people, including many financial workers at the World Trade Center and firefighters and police officers who had rushed to the burning buildings trying to save lives.
The attacks reverberated globally, altering the course of U.S. foreign and domestic policy. It led to the “ Global War on Terrorism ” and the U.S.-led invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq and related conflicts that killed hundreds of thousands of civilians and troops.
The U.S. government has also spent billions of dollars providing health care and compensation to tens of thousands of people who were exposed to the toxic dust that billowed over parts of Manhattan when the twin towers collapsed.
While the hijackers died in the attacks, federal officials have struggled to conclude the long-running legal case against the man accused of masterminding the plot, Khalid Sheikh Mohammed. The former al-Qaida leader was arrested in 2003, but has never received a trial.
The Trump administration has also acknowledged its considering ways to take control of the ground zero memorial plaza and its underground museum, which are run by a public charity.
Who’s ready to have some fun? Well, the Mercury is here to help with FREE TICKETS to see some of Portland’s best concerts and events—our way of saying thanks to our great readers and spread the word about some fantastic upcoming performances! (Psst… if you want to say thanks to the Mercury, please consider making a small monthly contribution to keep us alive and kickin’!) And oh boy, do we have some fun events coming at ya this week! CHECK IT OUT!
Beloved for their ecstatic live performances, Nashville-based Americana trio The Lone Bellow returns to the Aladdin with lush harmonies and heartfelt lyrics from their forthcoming sixth studio album. Get your tickets now or enter to win a free pair!
Aladdin Theater, 3017 SE Milwaukie, Sat Sept 20, 8 pm, $38.08-$132.57, all ages
Psychedelic indie rock outfit Grandaddy reunites for their first North American tour in over 20 years in celebration of the 25th Anniversary of their landmark album The Sophtware Slump. The 9/20 show is SOLD OUT, don’t miss this one! Get your tickets now or enter to win a free pair!
Revolution Hall, 1300 SE Stark, Sun September 21, 8 pm, $43.76, All Ages
Rising from Phoenix’s skate scene, genre-bending hip-hop artists The Kaleidoscope Kid and N.U.B.S visit Portland on the ‘Falling Together’ Tour! Get your tickets now or enter to win a free pair!
Polaris Hall, Polaris Hall, 635 N. Killingsworth Ct, Sun September 21, 8pm, $19.12, 21+
Beloved for his powerful vocals and honest delivery, Canadian actor (Schitt’s Creek) and folk songwriter Noah Reid shares transcendent new tunes on the ‘Live Again’ Tour! Get your tickets now or enter to win a free pair!
Revolution Hall, 1300 SE Stark, Tues September 23, 8pm, $43.76, All Ages
A dazzling live performer with a radiant personality and phenomenal voice, Miami-born pop songwriter David Archuleta visits Portland on the ‘Earthly Delights’ Tour! Get your tickets now or enter to win a free pair!
Aladdin Theater, 3017 SE Milwaukie, Wed September 24, 8pm, $38.08-$276.08, all ages
GOOD LUCK! Winners will be notified on Monday, and check back next week for more FREE TIX from the Mercury!
CALLING ALL SMARTY BRAINS! It’s time once again to put your brainy-brain to the test with this week’s edition of POP QUIZ PDX—our weekly, local, sassy-ass trivia quiz. And this week we’ll be testing your knowledge on a Powell’s Books controversy, that spider that’s currently watching you while you sleep, and what chores should we make the National Guard do when Trump sends them to Portland? 🤔 🫡
But first! How did you do on our last quiz? Dang, you so brainy! And I love the new name you’ve chosen for the company that has weirdly called themselves “Keurig Dr. Pepper.” (Also thank you for your interest in the Wm. Steven Humphrey Church of Latter-day Saints… may I send you some literature? 😁)
Anywaaaaaay… READY TO START? Take this week’s quiz below, take our previous pop quizzes here, and come back next week for a brand spankin’ new quiz! (Having a tough time answering this quiz? It’s probably because you aren’t getting Mercury newsletters! HINT! HINT!) Now crank up that cerebellum, because it’s time to get BRAINY!
If you’re reading this, you probably know the value of the Mercury’s newsreporting, arts and culture coverage, event calendar, and the bevy of events we host throughout the year. The work we do helps our city shine, but we can’t do it without your support. If you believe Portland benefits from smart, local journalism and arts coverage, please consider making a small monthly contribution, because without you, there is no us. Thanks for your support!
GOOD MORNING, PORTLAND!👋
And good morning, WEATHER! After a cloudy start to the day, expect the sun to say “HOWDY” this afternoon, with a high of 75. I can totally see the sun dreaming of being a cowboy, and then getting despondent after remembering it will never be anything more than a massive, hot ball of plasma made mostly of hydrogen and helium, that heats and illuminates our entire solar system. (Pal… I KNOW THE FEELING.) Anyway, let’s read some news.
IN LOCAL NEWS:
• Actually, before we get to the news, allow me to toot the Mercury horn… because our annual Fall Arts Guide drops today, online and in print on the streets of Portland in more than 500 spots citywide! 🎺🎉🥳 Edited and expertly curated by our own Suzette Smith, this Fall Arts Guide leaves all others in the dust, with articles including an excellent oral history of classic PDX club Satyricon, the most artistic plates of food in town, interviews with activist/author Stacey Abrams as well as Linda Austin of Performance Works Northwest, the best fall films, a comedy show (that’s also a wrestling match?), and so much more interesting fun! Check it out, biznatch!
• Flags across the state will be flown at half-staff today to honor the victims of the September 11, 2001 attacks against the World Trade Center and Pentagon, which killed 2,996 people. On Sunday, the flags at Oregon state public facilities will be lowered again—but this time to honor a single person: transphobic/antisemitic/homophobic Trump supporter (and promoter of violence) Charlie Kirk who was killed yesterday by a sniper. While announcing the flag lowerings—which were ordered by President Trump—Gov. Tina Kotek commented on the honor being bestowed to Kirk, saying “This attack is inexcusable. Violence has absolutely no place in our democracy. America is better than this.” No one is lowering flags for the children shot yesterday at a Colorado high school. 🤔
• There are times when I think the Oregonian has lost its mind:
• Surprise, COVID-19 is back and getting a jump on the fall and winter season by infecting lots of kids across the state already, mere days after a new school year started… and just in time for the RFK Jr.’s new and worsened CDC to issue confusing and restrictive COVID vaccine protocols. CVS recently walked back their previous promise to provide vaccines to certain populations, and now requires a doctor’s prescription to get the shot. At this time, no one is lowering their flags to half-staff to honor the 1,226,351 confirmed American deaths from COVID-19 so far.
• Heads up, the well-traveled Broadway Bridge will be closed to motorized traffic for a whopping six months, from October 13 to April 11, 2026, according to county officials. Pedestrians and cyclists will still be able to use the bridge for most of the time, as will the Portland Streetcar which will have a modified schedule. The closure is happening in order to replace the bridge’s deck, which according to officials, is “retaining water and the structural beams have begun to fail.”
• And don’t you dare miss this week’s excellent edition of HEAR IN PORTLAND, Jenni Moore’s regular column that covers the Portland hip-hop scene. This week: The Black and Loud Fest, a hot new release from Alana Rich, queer icon (and Mean Girls: The Musical star) Reneé Rapp, and more!
San Cha’s Inebria me is the Time-Based Art Festival performance we prayed for.
• As briefly mentioned earlier, yesterday three teenagers were victims of a shooting spree at Evergreen High School in a Denver, Colorado suburb. One of the teens died—the suspected shooter who perished from self-inflicted wounds—while another was critically injured. The third victim is currently in stable condition. This same area was the scene of the infamous Columbine school shooting of 1999, in which 14 people were killed, including one who died earlier this year due to complications from her injuries. So far, no motive has been given for this most recent shooting. Since 2000, at least 515 people have died and 1,161 have been injured as a result of school shootings.
• In other gun violence news, popular (at least among certain segments of the population) MAGA influencer Charlie Kirk was shot and killed yesterday while speaking at Utah Valley University near Salt Lake. The shooter, who fired at Kirk from a rooftop roughly 140 yards away, has not been captured, though authorities say he is of “college age,” and they have found a “high-powered, bolt-action rifle” in a nearby wooded area. Kirk is credited for helping Trump win his most recent election by turning out the youth vote, all the while spouting transphobic, homophobic, as well as racist and antisemitic rhetoric and is famously known for saying that some gun deaths are “worth it” to protect peoples’ second amendment rights. Trump is (as expected) apoplectic over the shooting, and has ordered the nation’s flags to be flown at half-staff. Republicans are unsurprisingly blaming Democrats, as a group, for the increase in political violence, and are far more upset about this than yesterday’s Colorado school shooting—even though a clear line can be drawn between these deaths and the staunch Republican refusal to curb the distribution of guns.
• This tracks:
President Donald Trump began his comments at a ceremony commemorating the deaths on Sept. 11, 2001, by announcing that he would award the Presidential Medal of Freedom to slain MAGA influencer Charlie Kirk.
• Meanwhile the nation’s inflation rate got even WORSE last month—thanks to Trump-onomics—as consumer prices increased 2.9% in August over this time last year. Prices continue to soar for groceries, gas, clothing, and airfares, as the job market is also weakening. This puts federal policymakers are in a verrry sticky position, as short-term borrowing rates are usually cut when the unemployment numbers get too high, and are raised (or stays the same) when inflation hits a dangerous point. So what will they do when both are happening? The next few days will tell.
Inflation moved higher last month as the price of gas, groceries, hotel rooms and airfare rose, along with the cost of clothes and used cars.
• Surprise, surprise: Republicans have blocked a Democratic attempt to force the Trump administration to release the Epstein files–even as two GOP senators broke ranks to vote in favor of it. The Senate voted 51-49 to block the measure, even after the revelation of a birthday card that was given to Epstein (containing a crudely drawn naked female form) and which was allegedly signed by President Trump.
• And finally… what do you say to an ADORABLE RED PANDA timeline cleanse?
After a nearly three-week strike, union workers and the Evergreen School District came together to say a contract for para-educators could be ratified as early as this evening and school would be back by tomorrow morning after it’s finalized. This agreement ends a nearly-three week work stoppage, which delayed the school start date multiple times.
Late Wednesday night, Evergreen School’s superintendent Dr. Christine Maloney said a tentative deal had been reached for the PSE Large Group classified union to go back to work.
The union is holding a vote to ratify a contract later today with results announced by 8pm tonight. Once that last hurdle clears, the Evergreen School District is expected to start up tomorrow morning.
Meanwhile, Vancouver Public Schools classified workers have been hinting at a possible strike in similar fashion to what people at Evergreen have been going through.
Rothko Pavilion’s Glowing Premiere: After community outcry, the new Mark Rothko Pavilion finally links Portland Art Museum’s two buildings and adds a more central main entrance.
Put This Art in Your Mouth: Our Andrea Damewood spotlights some of Portland’s most delicious looking (and tasting) plated works of art.
Linda Austin Looks Back: Performance Works Northwest turns 25 this year, and our Lindsay Costello talks to founder Linda Austin about the origins and current direction of the beloved Foster-Powell arts space.
Is Bike Play Theater: Can an annual bike ride also be considered “theater”? Of course it can, and our Suzette Smith reviews the refreshing chaos.
Punchlines and Piledrivers: Local stand-ups embody classic wrestling tropes in this recurring show that combines comedy with verbal body slams.
Non-Normal Q&A with Normal Gossip: The Mercury spills the tea with Rachelle Hampton and Se’era Spragley Ricks, the hosts of the wildly entertaining podcast Normal Gossip.
Jock Jams Turns 30: Cameron Crowell explores the uneasy relationship between professional sports and ’90s hip-hop and gay anthems, as Jock Jams celebrates 30 years of weird existence.
Satyricon: An Oral History: From 1984-2011, this downtown dive was a venue where, impossibly, musical legends, locals, and total unknowns shared a stage—as well as its disgusting bathroom.
My Evening with Francis Ford Coppola: The acclaimed director made a stop in Portland to field audience questions—and after 90 minutes only answered three of them?
Films on Our Fall Watchlist: Dom Sinacola rounds up this fall’s most anticipated movies—and which ones you should avoid at all costs.
Wolf Bells by Leni Zumas: Leni Zumas’ new novel Wolf Bells is centered on people society would like to forget: older women, disabled people, the elderly, students, and others.
Portland Zine Meetup at the Mall: Gathering weekly at the Lloyd Mall food court, Roman Ruddick and Charlie Manzano founded the zine meetup as a way to foster fun, creativity, and community.
A Li’l Lit Newsletter About Tennis: The creators of Tennis Courterly want to spread the gospel of the game, and turn Portland into “Tennis City, USA.”
Stacey Abrams Writes Fiction?!: Not only does the famous political activist pen thrillers, but romance novels as well! 🤯)
Portland Book Festival Picks: All the authors you must see at the upcoming Portland Book Festival—at least according to us.
Arts Events Calendar: A little more about the Time-Based Arts Festival, PDX Pop Now!, Portland Opera’s latest, the Portland Book Festival, and lots more can’t-miss art happenings.
The Portland Art Museum (PAM) has grown steadily throughout its lifetime. The original building from 1932 had a major add-on in 1939 and expanded again in 1970. In 2005, the Masonic Temple next to PAM became the museum’s Mark Building, which houses offices, ballrooms, and the Jubitz Center for Modern and Contemporary Art.
Later this November, PAM will link its original building with the Masonic Temple expansion by way of the Mark Rothko Pavilion. The new structure will extend across SW Madison and add approximately 10,000 square feet of space to Portland’s flagship art museum, finally connecting the two buildings.
The Rothko solves a major problem for PAM. Previously, the original part of the museum and the Mark Building were linked via an underground passageway that a lot of guests completely missed during their visits. In exit surveys, many museum-goers reported not knowing that the Jubitz Center was even part of PAM because they couldn’t find the passage that linked one building with the other. When the new addition opens on November 20, it will connect the original PAM building and the Mark Building across four levels.
Architecturally distinct from both existing structures, the Rothko Pavilion contrasts with the two adjacent brick buildings. The 1932 museum building was designed by Pietro Belluschi, a Portland modernist architect known for clean, functional designs. The Mark Building is from 1926 and, as a Masonic Temple, was made to look faux-ancient, complete with fake arrow slits.
The Rothko’s exterior is almost entirely glass, and its open design is much more contemporary, reminiscent of an Apple store or a sun-filled open-plan office. It was designed by the Portland-based Hennebery Eddy Architects working with Chicago-based Vinci Hamp Architects.
Another major change: PAM’s admissions desk is moving into the pavilion, which will function as the new visitor entrance. While the existing entrance’s architectural elements, like the stairs leading up to the original doorway, will remain, the original foyer will be repurposed into a gallery.
Upgrades and additions at PAM aren’t limited to the Rothko Pavilion. The passageway that was once the only connection to the Mark is also getting a makeover, becoming the New Media Gallery. That hall and series of rooms will open in November, presenting a video collage by Marco Brambilla, a contemporary artist also known for being the director of Demolition Man.
“He’s probably the only artist who’s both collected by the Guggenheim and has directed Sylvester Stallone,” says Ian Gillingham, head of press and publications for PAM. Other new features include a Black Art and Experiences Gallery, a new loading dock, and changes to the museum’s cafe and gift shop.
Initial plans for the pavilion stirred up controversy. The city has allowed PAM to build on and use a segment of SW Madison since 1968, provided that the museum maintains an easement that lets pedestrians and bicyclists pass through freely. However, a 2016 design of the Rothko did not include that easement. The public would have been able to move through an open area during the museum’s business hours, but wouldn’t have had 24-hour access.
“They severely underestimated how mad people would get,” says Jonathan Maus of Bike Portland, who reported on the back-and-forth between the city and museum during the planning process. “The public wasn’t willing to take any downgrade in access. The longer people had a chance to look at this, the more upset they got.”
Eventually, PAM altered the pavilion design to include a tunnel-like public area that would maintain the easement. Pedestrians and bicyclists will be able to use the thruway at all hours, and the museum still gets to connect its two buildings. “It was a pretty awesome example of the community expressing concern,” says Maus.
The new pavilion takes its name from Mark Rothko, a 20th century artist who spent much of his youth in Portland. Born Markus Rothkowitz in 1903, in what is now Lithuania, Rothko moved with his family to Portland when he was eight years old. He attended Lincoln High School, took art classes with the museum, and had his first solo exhibition at PAM in 1933.
Rothko didn’t stick around to become part of the Portland art scene, though. He also had an exhibition that year in New York. Throughout his life, Rothko became famous for his large, abstract color field paintings. He died in 1970. The addition to PAM will bear his name because of the insistence of an anonymous donor who wanted the structure to be named after an artist rather than a patron.
One artist notably absent from the new pavilion, though: Mark Rothko. “It’s made of glass,” says Gillingham. “There’s light coming through. That’s not a place where you can display Mark Rothko paintings.” The new addition will house art that can be in direct sunlight on a regular basis, like sculptures
However, Rothko’s work will still be on view at the museum. The Rothko family is loaning PAM several pieces, and they’ll be displayed over the next 20 years. “It’s like a globally significant Rothko exhibition, except spread out over two decades,” says Gillingham. According to him, the works in question aren’t just limited to Rothko’s famous abstract color fields. They also include several earlier works, many of which are much more representational.
The new pavilion ensures that Rothko will be a major presence at PAM in the future, just a few rooms over from the bridgeway that bears his name.
The Mark Rothko Pavilion opens at Portland Art Museum, 1219 SW Park, Thurs Nov 20. More info and updates on an associated free four-day community event at pam.org
Food is the most immersive artform humans have managed to create–licking a Monet, for example, won’t tell you much and will probably get you arrested, but a big bite of burrata speaks volumes about life and beauty.
While eating engages all senses, nothing primes the palate better than a presentation that pops with color, texture, and design. Like sculpture and watercolor, plating is an art.
There are countless gorgeous dishes in Portland, especially in fine dining. With all due respect to microfoam, we wanted to highlight some indulgences that even a starving artist could afford.
Cheesecake at Soro Soro Coffee & Dessert
If “kawaii” (cute in Japanese) had a picture next to it in the dictionary, this little cheesecake from East Burnside’s Soro Soro Coffee & Dessert would be it. The little gluten free personal-sized cake features an adorable orange cat (or hamster? I dunno, but it’s adorbs) smiling up at you. It’s almost too cute to eat, except that once you plunge your spoon in, the not-too-sweet cheesecake compels you to demolish the whole thing in one go. (2050 E Burnside, sorosoropdx.com)
Watching Kaede’s sushi chef and co-owner Shinji Uehara work—his hands methodically forming perfect pats of sushi rice, moving in one motion with a sharp blade to slice fresh fish from Toyosu Fish Market in Tokyo—is like watching a master painter put brush to canvas.
The tasting menu rotates with the seasons—not just the vegetables but the fish as well. The kinme dai, or golden eye snapper, is cut on a bias to reveal a brilliant pink skin against soft pearly meat and sliced so fine it’s translucent at one end. (8268 SE 13th, kaedepdx.com)
The most visually appealing configuration of sauces in our city is undoubtedly the tres moles enchiladas at Mole Mole. This Northeast Alberta cart specializes in Oaxacan flavors, particularly the many moles of the Southern Mexican state.
The tres moles allows you to sample the floral pink mole, the bright verde mole and the rich, deep brown mole. This is optimal, as they’re all very different and very delicious. Fuck Skittles, this is what tasting the rainbow is really all about. (2231 NE Alberta, molemolepdx.com)
Photo by Andrea Damewood
A year from now, Chef Althea Grey Potter will be a Portland household name. She’s long been your favorite food writer’s favorite chef, and she’s getting ready to open her first solo venture, Bar Nouveau, in St. John’s. Formerly of Ned Ludd and Oui, Grey Potter’s tiny, electric-only kitchen inside the former Southeast Wine Collective location, is poised to put out plates maximalist enough to make still life painters salivate.
The permanent Bar Nouveaux space is set to open on September 18, but at a spring pop up in Gracie’s Apizza, bright orange early season carrots formed a crown around green garlic zhoug dollops—so green the plate looked like the month of May personified. Crispy pita chips, green onion, and herbs rounded out the dish. Grey Potter described her style to Portland Monthly better than even the finest writer could: “It’s like if Julia Child did acid and lived on a commune for a while. A technicolor awakening.” (Scheduled to open on Sept. 18, 7415 N Leavitt, @barnouveaupdx)
Janken knows what it’s doing when it comes to looking good. The restaurant is dominated by a life-like blooming cherry tree, its pink blossom laden branches arching over the main dining room. Gold leaf makes several appearances across the menu, and the towering Korean shaved ice bingsu desserts are truly a sight to behold.
Almost anything you order is going to be a looker, but if you want a quick hit with a big visual impact, grab a seat at the bar and order the Pineapple Express. The drink itself is a great riff on a tiki drink: grilled pineapple infused mezcal, cointreau, cane syrup, cardamom bitters, and lemon juice blend together with just the right amount of sweet and acidic. But the real clincher unfolds as it’s served with major flourish, arriving at your seat under a cloche filled with smoke that dissipates dramatically, and your drink appears before you. Voila. (250 NW 13th, jankenrestaurant.com)
Arden’s chef Erik Van Kley is one of our city’s undersung heroes for the incredible work he does. Seasonal cooking can have its limitations, with some cooks leaning on repeats or well-trodden combos each year. However, Van Kley delivers both dynamic taste and stunning visuals. Always look to his burrata, which right now has pleasing pops of red heirloom tomato, bright orange heirloom melon, vermilion calabrian chili vinaigrette, and ample verdant green herbs. (417 NW 10th, ardenpdx.com)
A good noodle soup is already a thing of beauty, but Thai restaurant Nakhon Sawan on Southeast Division said “hold my broth.” They took tom yum noodle soup, already a perennial favorite, and turned the noodles purple, steaming them in purple butterfly pea flower broth. The violet noodles are served with a painter’s palette of accompaniments: jammy boiled egg, red roasted BBQ chicken, Chinese broccoli, cilantro, onion, garlic, ground peanuts, minced pork, AND crispy wontons. It’s a soup that looks as good as it tastes. (4147 SE Division, nakhonsawanpdx.com)
Photo by Andrea Damewood
Coconut cold brew with Ube Whip at Kalesa Coffee
Filipino-owned coffee shop Kalesa Coffee has you covered for all your matcha, pandan, and ube needs, but there’s a reason the coconut cold brew with ube whip is a permanent signature drink. The coffee takes on a milky tan color, denoting the sweet coconut flavors within, and the bright purple ube whipped cream on top makes it the cheeriest morning pick-me-up, even when it’s actually cold and grey outside. (722 N Page, kalesacoffee.com)
Leilani Banayat Photography
Most pizza looks good—you’re going to want to eat gooey cheese and red sauce. However, not many pizzas are truly gorgeous. Enter the heirloom tomato pizza at Double Mountain Brewery. This baby has gained a cult following, with the seasonal pie getting an official launch date each year on the brewery’s Instagram page. (This year, they kicked off on August 15.)
Huge slices of orange, green, purple, and red tomatoes dominate the crust, laid over a fresh basil walnut pesto on their New Haven-style thin crust. It’s just the thing to celebrate late summer, with an ice cold Jiro Japanese style lager to wash it down. (1700 N Killingsworth, 4336 SE Woodstock, 8 4th St in Hood River, doublemountainbrewery.com)
In August, Performance Works Northwest marked its 25th anniversary with 25 hours of programming, a fitting tribute to the interdisciplinary spirit that defines the Foster-Powell arts space. The marathon weekend bounced from a dance aerobics workshop to a poets’ cabaret and a late-night karaoke party, underscoring Performance Works’ blend of artistic rigor and play.
Back in 2000, dance artist Linda Austin and lighting director Jeff Forbes transformed a former church on a residential street into an experimentation hub. A little east of Portland’s contemporary art orbit, it looks unassuming from the sidewalk. Inside, Performance Works incubates some of the city’s gutsiest art.
When we met in the venue’s back yard, Austin noted a new ADA bathroom underway as her cats sprawled in a sunlit catio nearby. The scene felt emblematic of her whole approach: grounded, warm, and community-minded.
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.
MERCURY: How was Performance Works Northwest founded?
LINDA AUSTIN: Well, I didn’t grow up dancing. I fell into it in the ’80s, after I moved to New York City. But I had physical training as an actor. I was a theater major at Lewis & Clark College. I first met [Performance Works co-founder] Jeff Forbes there, on the lighting crew. We didn’t date until we were in our 40s—I ran into Jeff at an Imago Theatre performance. The first thing he said to me was, “I just saw your picture in a book.”
How romantic.
I don’t know if he had a crush, but I thought, “Oh, you look at books about performance art…!” We started cross-country dating. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back to make me sell my East Village apartment. I bought it for $2,000 in 1978. By the ‘90s it was worth money, but not enough to buy a space for dancing in New York. In Portland, I could.
When I returned to Portland [in 1998], a realtor mentioned [the Performance Works building]. It was a Romanian Orthodox church. I thought, “Foster Road. Where’s that?!” At the time, it seemed far from the city center, but it was within our price range, so we bought it.
What was your first year of programming like?
It grew organically. We had a fundraiser called Cabaret Boris and Natasha, our cats’ names at the time. It was salon style, with acts in various disciplines. Jeff and I got married in the space, too. Performance Works has operated for 25 years, but in October it will also be our 25th wedding anniversary. Everything happened for me in 2000.
For many years you were also an English for Speakers of Other Languages (ESOL) instructor at Portland Community College while directing Performance Works. You were able to keep your creative spirit alive.
Well, I wasn’t a parent. And I worked a two-thirds load, as opposed to full-time. Although I made less money, I figured out that I could survive on that and still do my work. When I retired from teaching ESOL with a tiny [Public Employees Retirement System] PERS pension, my creative time increased. But my administrative time also increased—I took on more, added more programming.
Somehow, I figured out the jigsaw puzzle and was able to do things that might not be possible for younger people to do. I never had huge student debt. When I went to Lewis & Clark College, it was so much cheaper! So I benefited from the timing of when I was raised.
Looking back on a quarter-century of programming, what’s felt most powerful?
The Foreman Festival, which we held a new edition of as part of our 25th anniversary weekend. The last one was in 2012. It was based on the work of the avant-garde playwright Richard Foreman, who was very philosophical. He offered his raw writing drafts for people to use royalty-free and adapt however they wanted. For the Foreman Festival, artists got prompts based on a selection of his text.
How would you describe Performance Works’ role in Portland’s art scene over the years? Where would you like to see it go next?
When Performance Works started, I missed the East Village and New York’s downtown performance scene. So we held Holy Goats! Sunday afternoon improvisations, with bagels and coffee and performances in the daylight. That was basically replicating a program that I’d experienced at PS 122 [now Performance Space New York].
Conduit Dance was in Portland, which was my first entryway into the dance community here. Our space was similar, but also encompassed more of an interdisciplinary aspect. Over the years, that has developed further. We have a music series called Workshop. We’re one of the cheapest places to rent in town, so artists use the space for all kinds of things: installations, theater, music, film. Our residency program is one of our main ways of supporting artists. We’d like to keep doing what we’re doing, but with more support, which feels like a ridiculous thing to say in this climate of funding cuts.
What’s taking shape in your personal dance practice?
I have a new piece in the works called The Waves, loosely inspired by Virginia Woolf’s novel. There’ll be six performers, a couple musicians and some dancers. It’s [also referencing] the stream of consciousness of Woolf’s writing. I’m considering what we can do in a performance language that could be analogous. It probably won’t come to light for two years, although I may do a solo excerpt in the spring of 2026.
What can you share about Performance Works’ programming this fall?
Maya Dalinsky and claire barrera will be in residency for a week (October 5–11) with three workshops and a performance. Their work is partly about the value of friendship. For one of the workshops, you sign up with a best friend, and bring your archival objects or photos.
I’m also excited about hosting Bay Area artists for Beyond Gravity [featuring Allie Hankins] in November. There will be four different pieces by paired artists, sort of like a small festival!
Performance Works Northwest, 4625 SE 67th, pwnw-pdx.org
Bike Play is one of the city’s unsung artistic cuties. Since its start in 2009, the Bike Summer/Pedalpalooza ride has drawn healthy crowds to its annual one or two weekend runs, filling parks and lesser-known neighborhood green spaces with playfulness, charm, and cyclist humor.
The production flies under the radar of most cultural criticism. It’s been written about almost exclusively by Bike Portland’s Jonathan Maus for being part of the city’s cycling culture. But isn’t Bike Play theater? And shouldn’t we critique it? Merriam-Webster defines—I’m joking! Of course Bike Play is theater, especially if you think of short comedy skits as meeting the criteria.
Bike Play is actually a very old kind of theater, the outdoors kind. And it contends with some of the most enduring puzzles of the form: How to be loud, and how to make movements that can be recognized at a distance.
As with anything that’s been going on for 17 years, the troupe contains a mix of longstanding players and fresh faces. It began as a project of the Working Theatre Collective, now defunct outside of Bike Play. After the first three productions, founder Noah Martin moved out of Portland, and the show’s producer Noelle Eaton became its longest-running constant.
In mid-July the troupe staged its 16th iteration, Up Shift Creek, which followed a Magnolia-esque arc through several separate camping groups—each with their own dramatic circumstances—who all eventually overlapped to fight a shark. Along the way, there were synchronized dances, musical numbers, and a secret religious sect that had been living in the woods since 1968.
The story and dialogue were light and refreshing—seemingly built to appeal to both young and older audiences, as Bike Play is a family-friendly ride. Still, sharply smart lines jumped out unexpectedly from the easygoing script, contributing to the show’s overall feeling of pleasant surprise.
The structure of the ride is deceptively simple: A series of interconnected skits, broken up along a group bike ride route. Actors and audience traveled between six locations, along a five-mile loop, and each location brought a unique flavor to the different skits: A grassy divot, tucked beneath tall walls built to block Swan Island traffic sounds, felt like a hidden glade. A basketball court that offered a grand view from the Overlook neighborhood bluff became a sunset stage for tender family reconciliation. In the latter scene, longstanding troupe choreographer Kelsey Rankins broke out ballet moves—in sneakers—her dance with newcomer Isaac Ellingson creating an unusual energy that shifted from surprising elegance to goofy comedy and back again.
Kind of shocking that Bike Play is so fun and funny. A light series of interconnected sketches, told over 5-6 stops on a big group bike ride, it keeps its material tight and gets plenty of laughs from the willing crowd.
Plenty of moments of Up Shift Creek were intentionally camp, made to telegraph easily to a large crowd—our audience had over a hundred. But what we felt most often was genuine entertainment at the ingenuity on display. One scene unwound a spool of cellophane to make an impassable river, another used traffic cones to represent campfires.
Even within such a simple idea, there’s so much chaos to work with. We were struck with the idea that Bike Play is so refreshing because its creators are still playing—still inventing and reacting to their shifting stages— and that’s leading them to bold, new flavors of mood.
In an empty comedy theater, Mack Lee is strutting around in a diaper. The local comedian moves toward a camera, sipping from a baby bottle filled with champagne. An unlit cigarette rests on Lee’s bottom lip.
It’s 10 weeks until the next installment of Punchlines & Piledrivers, and Lee, who performs as an infantile character dubbed Bad Baby, needs to cut a promo for the pro-wrestling-inspired improv comedy show before an upcoming battle in October.
The brainchild of Ally Ward, a local stand-up comic and lifelong pro wrestling enthusiast, Punchlines & Piledrivers embraces what Ward calls the “absurdity” of wrestling and pairs it with improvised comedy.
The result? Unserious characters standing in a mock “ring” hurling jabs at each other while Ward emcees. The participants don’t actually wrestle; they are comedians, not athletes. Instead, the comics go one-on-one, calling out their opponents’ character flaws, while trying to win over judges, and charm the audience enough to advance to the next round.
The live show just might be the most Portland thing to hit the stage in years—a weird, low-brow production that is often as endearing as it is cringey.
Staying true to theme, the championship comes with a hefty, customized pro-wrestling-style belt.
Not every comic who participates is familiar with the theatrics and machismo of pro wrestling, but most have at least a cursory grasp. That’s where Ward comes in, helping with character development and imparting just enough knowledge about the machinations of a traditional wrestling match to make the show’s mash-up format work.
“I think everybody naturally understands that wrestling isn’t a high level art. It’s just sort of campy,” Ward says. “It is really basic storytelling sometimes.”
Some characters are built on parody. Others might come with a back story. For the most part, the character portrayal is the comedic element.
The cheeky format of Punchlines is a departure from the traditional stand-up routine most comedians are accustomed to. Improvised comedy is a challenge on its own, but throw in costumes and characters, and it ups the ante.
“I get bored easily, so this show is so great for me. As a comedian I definitely lean toward character work,” Lee says, noting Bad Baby is inspired by the ridiculousness of a brash, mafia-inspired archetype—as a toddler.
“This is my character, I’m a Sopranos baby,” Lee adds. “I get to be a freak. I get to wear a diaper.”
To attain the championship in October, Lee will need to win each round, before facing off against the current Punchlines & Pile Drivers World Champion, Amir Kat, AKA Mr. Roberts.
The reigning champ and current belt holder, Kat won over the audience at the last Punchlines show in April as Mr. Roberts—a persona derived from the Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood children’s TV show.
“The quirk with Mr. Roberts is that he’s a little more morally updated; morally ambiguous,” Kat says. I want to be unsettling, a little. That’s part of the character.”
The comedian borrows from the signature wardrobe styling of Mister Rogers, layering sweaters over sweaters. He also sports a whimsical mustache he calls an ode to the Iron Sheik—an Iranian-American pro wrestler who rose to fame in the 1980s.
“I’ve been a fan of pro wrestling ever since I was little, and I love the amped up characters,” Kat says, recalling what it meant to him to see the Iron Sheik as a mainstay character on TV, yelling in Farsi.
With Punchlines, the local comedian gets to embrace a childhood nostalgia while also flexing a new comedic muscle.
The live shows can be rough around the edges. Most of it is improvised, spur of the moment—meaning that, unlike pro wrestling, none of it is scripted. Comics in foppish costumes, at times, stumble to think of a quippy comeback.
For some in the audience, the unpolished, outlandish format is what draws them in. Thanks to a loyal local indie wrestling scene, Punchlines has been able to attract wrestling fans who know how to heckle and dial up the antics.
Is Stepdad Bill a good guy, AKA a babyface, or a heel (villain)? Even the performers don’t always know.
“What I found was the audience determines who’s the good guy and the bad guy,” Ward says. “Ultimately, I’m not telling [the contestants] which way to lean. Just present your character, and the audience will decide whether they like you or not.”
Ward is gearing up for the fourth Punchlines comedy showcase. She says the motivation for the concept was always to combine two distinct, yet not entirely dissimilar mediums. “There’s a huge passion for alternative comedy here and a huge passion for independent wrestling,” she notes. “I think the goal would be to create fans of comedy and wrestling and show them the connection of how they’re relevant.”
Punchlines & Piledrivers smashes up Curious Comedy Annex, 5225 NE MLK, Fri Oct 24, 7:30 pm, $12-15 and $5 to stream, tickets and info at curiouscomedy.org
A stained chair. A disgusting stew. A girls’ trip where someone buys a dumb lamp. You may not think you need to hear the backstory of such innocuous things, but if it’s told to you in lurid detail by Rachelle Hampton on the hit podcast Normal Gossip, you will change your mind.
The premise of the podcast is simple: A listener submits an anonymous story from the regular world, which the host anonymizes to protect the (sometimes) innocent. Then the host salaciously tells the tale to a guest, who stands in for the audience by gasping, giggling, and yelling at these people to make better choices. (Spoiler: They won’t.)
Listening to the show feels like finishing a second glass of wine with one of your funner friends who then leans over conspiratorially, asking: “You wanna hear something fuckin’ wild?” Hampton took over as host after creator Kelsey McKinney warmly passed along the keys to the mess chest earlier this year, and says fans have been extremely supportive of the switch.
It warms my catty soul to hear from Hampton that the Portland date on Normal Gossip’s national tour—September 18 at Revolution Hall—was the first to sell out. However, if you didn’t snag seats, [StubHubbing for $448 at time of press -eds.] this Q&A with Hampton and producer Se’era Spragley Ricks is the next best thing.
You can share your own gossip story calling or texting 26-79-GOSSIP. Rachelle and Se’era said that they’re specifically jonesing for service industry or tattoo shop gossip. Portland is nothing if not a collection of tattooed boozehounds; please tell your friends’ secrets, and do us proud.
This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity (even though I was sad to do it because our whole talk was so fun.)
MERCURY: It’s tradition on Normal Gossip for the guests to bring a small bit of gossip for the host. I know that I am not a guest on your show, but I still wanted to bring you some gossip.
[RACHELLE HAMPTON and SE’ERA SPRAGLEY RICKS immediately perk up.]
Thank you, that means so much to me—especially since you really don’t have to promote your Portland show. It’s so sold out. I didn’t even get tickets, so I need to get as much out of you now as I possibly can. If I promise not to tell anyone, can you tell me what the story for the live show will be about?
RH: It is going to be about a [canonically messy event] in [disaster location]. And there is a high likelihood that a version of the live show will appear in the Normal Gossip feed.
Normal Gossip has a devoted and ravenous fan base. You’ve said you all anonymize the submissions, but to your knowledge, has anyone ever figured one out?
RH: Normal Gossip has a pretty dedicated subreddit, which both of us avoid going into. I do think that people have found out the origins of episodes in the subreddit.
SSR: That’s one of the layers of anonymization we do, where once we get a story, we’re thinking like, what is the logical lead? And then we go the opposite direction from that. And it’s happening at every step of the process. Even the stories that we choose are based on whether or not we can anonymize them. We get a lot of phenomenal stories where it’s like, this is incredible gossip, and it would be impossible to anonymize. So we just won’t do that story. We want to keep people that are sending us stories safe, and also, we want to keep ourselves safe.
Do the submitters participate in the anonymization process?
SSR: Not in the anonymization process, but we will go back to them when we let them know we chose their story, and then we will give them an update like, “hey, we changed this to that, is that okay?”
RH: Sometimes we’ll somehow end up anonymizing something to the point that it’s true. Like, we’ll just add a detail, and they’ll be like, “actually, that’s what happened.” And it’s like, “well thank you, we’re gonna take that out now.”
How many submissions do you get?
SSR: We get a lot. Some of them are really, really good. But some of them can’t become anonymized, and we don’t use them.
I am so jealous someone gets to listen to all those. Do you ever get stories about famous people? It seems like that’s one that you can’t really anonymize.
SSR: We’ll be like, you can’t tell us that on the show, but also, thank you for feeding me.
Founding Normal Gossip producer Alex Sujong Laughlin recently posted on Bluesky about the gutting of the podcast industry and the consolidation of wealth among just a few players. Does Defector’s subscriber-based model insulate it in any way from all of that?
SSR: I definitely think so. I think that we are insulated from a lot of the stuff like the ad market and with business people or conglomerates coming in and making decisions that have nothing to do with the people who are actually making the product. But I don’t think anyone is entirely safe from what’s happening with Chat GPT and AI and the kind of bottom falling out of like SEO.
So, my area of gossip is mostly celebrity gossip. I would like the Gossip Queens’ opinions on some things that are happening in that world, if it’s okay.
BOTH: Yes.
Do you think that Tom Cruise and Anna De Armas are actually dating?
RH: I have actually been thinking about this for a long time. I have so many conflicting feelings about Tom Cruise. Like, on one hand, he’s part of a cult. On the other hand, that man is more committed to the project of filmmaking than almost anyone except for, like, Martin Scorsese, and filmmaking is also going the way of the dinosaurs. Also, Top Gun: Maverick was great. He gave a lot to us. And so I’m, like, this gives PR relationship, but also, I well and truly have no idea what that man is ever thinking.
Do you think that Justin Trudeau and Katy Perry are actually dating?
RH: I hope not. I hope that’s a rumor.
SSR: I was thinking the same thing.
Since these are obviously both PR relationships, don’t you think that Tom Cruise with Katy Perry and Justin Trudeau with Ana De Armas work better?
RH: Yeah, I agree. Vibes-wise, Tom Cruise and Katy Perry actually work together. If anyone can handle controversy, it’s Tom Cruise. He can help Katy Perry with that whole missile backlash, Blue Origin, whatever the fuck was happening. Ana de Armas, I feel like she’s too cool for Tom Cruise. And Justin Trudeau isn’t cool. Katy Perry is, I think, net neutral or net negative on Justin Trudeau’s reputation. All four of these white people are crazy though.
Normal Gossip hosts Rachelle Hampton and Se’era Spragley Ricks appear at Revolution Hall, 1300 SE Stark, Thurs Sept 18, SOLD OUT.
Sports fans everywhere know Gary Glitter’s bumbling guitar riff from “Rock and Roll Part 2,” culminating in a “Hey Go [insert team name] Go.” And when 2 Unlimited asks, “y’all ready for this?” in their hip-hop/jazzercise classic “Get Ready for This,” sports stadiums erupt in affirmation.
Maybe you heard those tracks for the first time sitting courtside, at a Belgian techno party, or via an electrifying mashup of five-second snippets during TV commercials, which did numbers in an era of actual album sales. Even with those signposts of yore marking the path, it feels a little shocking to realize Jock Jams Vol. 1—released in July 1995—has turned 30, flirty, and certifiably vintage.
The compilation arose at a particular point in American media, born from a collaboration between ESPN and independent hip-hop record label Tommy Boy Records. While the songs now seem ubiquitously tied to the institution of American sports, this was a unique and novel effort in the ’90s.
Hip-hop groups like Naughty by Nature and K7 were still a part of the East Coast underground. Italo house legends Black Box crossed the European rave scene with American hip-hop to make “Strike It Up” (a work of timeless perfection). Additionally, including innuendos like those found in K7’s “Come Baby Come” was a risky move for a growing sports media empire like ESPN, who was still trying to convince the general public that the 24-hour news cycle could be applied to sports, too.
In ESPN’s oral history of the birth of Jock Jams, 69 Boyz producer Jay “Ski” McGowan offered the network a way to deal with any fallout from the raunchier tracks on the album. “Hey, if anyone from ESPN asks about 69 Boyz, just say the guys were all born in 1969, and “Tootsee Roll” is a candy and a fun dance and just leave it at that,” McGowan said.
Thirty years later, the sports media industry has collapsed and regrown into an entirely new regime. There’s less risk taking, less regionalism, and less cool. It’s hard to imagine ESPN taking a break from their regularly scheduled programming of Former Player Everybody Hates Yelling at a Guy Who Doesn’t Seem To Watch Sports and a Woman Trying to Get Them Both to Move On. Imagining mash-ups of independent dance and hip-hop artists to make workout music for suburban children is decidedly off the table.
The experience of doing jumping jacks to “Pump Up the Jam” by Technotronic in gym class was either a teamwork hype machine, inspiring us to get in a few extra reps, or at the very least a collective groan. It’s not easily replaced by the workout playlist Spotify’s algorithm is trying to sell—come on, Ed Sheeran is not hyphy!
Being a sports fan now is less about tragically attaching your feelings to your local team’s Herculean efforts on the court or field, and more about NBA offseason grades. The post-modern fan discusses Damian Lillard’s $42 million contract with the Trail Blazers as a business decision and asks how Jeremy Grant’s player-option will impact the Blazers’ salary cap.
We aren’t imagining ourselves as the players executing physical feats; we now identify more with the nerds managing the team.
While the track list on Jock Jams flows between wedding reception bangers, goofy skits, and dance routine staples, perhaps the only song on the compilation that has evolved along with American culture is the Village People’s “YMCA.”
Originally written as an obvious double entendre ode to the beauty of homoeroticism in athletics, the lyrics of “YMCA” were seen by many to depict working-class, gay men receiving safety net services at a community-based sports complex.
“YMCA” has since become the favorite rally song of President Donald Trump, drawing complaints from the gay community. In 2024, Victor Willis—co-author of the song and the Village People member who dressed like a police officer—revamped his longtime assertion that the song wasn’t written to be a gay anthem. For decades, Willis had acknowledged the dual meaning of the lyrics, but in December, Willis alleged he would sue “each and every news organization” that called YMCA a gay anthem. He added that he didn’t mind “that gays think of the song as their anthem.”
Approximately a month later Willis performed the song at several inaugurationevents, receiving rebuke from the group’s former members. Willis’ willingness to sell out his gay fans to encourage the success of a song, fully spreads the ironic splendor of Trump pumping his tiny fists to “YMCA.”
Torn from notions of homoerotic athleticism, the song’s lyrics can only describe services that most American YMCAs no longer provide. It holds no meaning other than as a payday for its surviving lyricist. The man behind its music, Jacques Morali, died in 1991 of AIDS-related illness.
Looking back on Jock Jams Vol. 1, we wonder what mix of genres could make the youth of today seize upon dusty barbells for renewed and vigorous reps. Facing crumbling infrastructure and cuts to bills written to create blue collar jobs and a new, greener world—thanks to the nerds in charge—what mash-up could inspire feats of strength on the court or in society? In a world run by nerds, we need jocks and we need jams.
Before Michaela Watkins’s first shift behind the bar at Satyricon, the manager gave her the tour.
“He said to me: ‘Okay, here’s the taps, here’s the keg, here’s the bat.’ And I was, like, the bat? And he’s like: ‘Yeah, the bat.’ I was like, am I gonna use a bat? He nodded: ‘You might need to use a bat.’”
Watkins never did need the bat, but it was a sign of the place, the times, and the vibes of one of the longest-lasting and, arguably, best punk clubs in the country, Satyricon, which shuttered for good just over 14 years ago.
Named for Fellini’s surreal but glamorous 1969 film, the club was on a decidedly unglamorous stretch of NW 6th, in Old Town. It was founded in 1984 by George Touhouliotis, a former cab driver with no real experience in running a club, but with a fondness for music.
“The story was that his brother had a grocery where Satyricon was and George had a bar on East Burnside and for some reason the Violent Femmes played there, in this tiny little place, and like 100 people came in, and George was like I’m in the wrong business,” recalls Mike King, a musician and the club’s poster artist. “Okay, I couldn’t swear to that story,” he admits, “but it sounds good.”
That was part of the magic of Satyricon—if the story sounded good enough, it may as well be reality. Did Kurt and Courtney meet there? Maybe! Was it haunted? Probably! Was it shut down by a riot? Kind of! Whatever people said about the place all fed into its lore.
Something definitely true, though, was that Satyricon quickly became a mandatory stop for touring bands. Through some magical alignment of timing (grunge was taking off) and geography (Portland is helpfully located between Seattle and San Francisco) Satyricon became an important place for bands to play. Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, the Replacements, and Mudhoney all made stops. Oasis played there on their way up to stadium-packing superstardom. The Foo Fighters had one of their first shows there.
King recalls his band Spike opening for the Minutemen: “We were waiting to get in the back door, and the Minutemen show up. And they ask us, ‘Are you guys hard-core?’ We said, no. And they said, ‘Good!” he recalls, laughing. “That was a fun show because we were not hard-core.”
While bands like the Minutemen or Mudhoney were sure to pack the place, Ben Munat—booker for Satyricon from 1993-1999—didn’t always know which bands would sell.
“I got offered Palace Brothers,” he remembers, “and I went to ask Mike Martinez, the chef at [next door restaurant] Fellini, ‘who’s this Palace Brothers? They want a lot of money.’ Well, a lot for us, like $500. He was like: ‘Oh my god, take it, take it’,” Munat says. “It sold out so far in advance.”
Touring bands could draw a crowd, but it wasn’t always a given, says Watkins. “I remember seeing Calexico, and there was nobody there. There were literally one or two people standing there watching this incredible band.”
Clockwise from left: Fiona Ortiz under the Satyricon marquee in 1987, Becki in 1988, Troy Stutzman of the Venarays in 1986, Tres Shannon and Kurtz Project in 1990.Fiona Ortiz, Bottom right photo: sandi langman
Satyricon became the home turf of Portland favorites like the Wipers, the Dandy Warhols, Hazel, Pond, Crackerbash, and Dead Moon. Lizzy Caston started going to shows there in the very early ’90s and remembers: “I saw many Dead Moon shows, and I am so glad I did. There was nothing like a Dead Moon show; it was true old-school Portland.”
“Dead Moon and Napalm Beach would go to Europe and play festivals for 10,000 people, and then they come home and they’d play for 100 people at Satyricon,” says Munat. “But they were fun, and I would put them on whenever they wanted.”
Satyricon was known as a go-to destination for bands wanting to do so-called underplays: shows at smaller clubs than they could usually sell out. “[The booking agent] called me and said, ‘Ben, I’ve got something for you,’” recalls Munat. “‘Jesus Lizard is going out, and they want to do small clubs. They miss the small clubs.’ But then he told me the price, and it was something huge. I’m like, I don’t care. I don’t care. I’ll charge 20 bucks. I don’t remember if it was $20, but I had to charge significantly more than I would normally back then. But it didn’t matter. The place was packed.”
“You could name any band, and if they were cool, they played there,” Watkins says. “Elliott Smith and Sleater Kinney would come in and pop up every now and then—even though they could do much bigger venues, they would still come in and do Satyricon.”
“I definitely remember Sleater-Kinney playing there,” says the band’s lead singer, Corin Tucker. “And what a big deal it was—how many famous bands had come before us. The high stage with the giant pole in the middle made the whole experience feel like a bit of a high-wire act.”
Tried-and-true acts filled the calendar, but Satyricon happily took risks with rising acts, too. “They were fine with booking up-and-coming bands,” recalls Tony Lash, who started going to Satyricon before he was legally allowed in the space. “I was 19 or 20 and doing sound for Nero’s Rome,” he explains. When his new band Heatmiser—fronted by a young Elliott Smith—started up, they were quickly booked to play at Satyricon. His next band, Sunset Valley, also booked an early gig there. Record labels used the space to highlight new bands, holding showcases of new acts. Caston recalls: “It would be literally five bands for five bucks.”
Rebecca Gates, singer and guitarist of the Spinanes, says an early version of the band played their first-ever show there. “It was before Scotty [Plouf] joined, but it was my first time playing under the Spinanes name,” she recalls. It was an apt setting, an earlier Satyricon show caused Gates to realize she could—and wanted to—be in a band. “I went to see Glass Eye and Scratch Acid” Gates remembers. “Kathy McCarty is the guitarist for Glass Eye, and I just watched her play and I related to it in a way.”
Over the years, a lot of bands played Satyricon. A lot of bands. “I added it up at some point after I made the documentary,” says Mike Lastra, who frequently played Satyricon with his band Smegma and made the 2013 Satyricon: Madness and Glory. “I calculated about 44,000 performances there.”
Despite that incredible number of shows played there over the decades, Satyricon was much more than just a club. It was a community center and gathering place. “It was just like a punk rock Cheers,” says King, who was hired to make posters for the club. “I made posters for every goddamn band that ever came to Portland ever. I did them all.”
The club and the in-house over souvlaki shop became a hub for Portland’s creative community. “It was exciting to have a place to go hang out that was lively and had a lot of interesting music and people. I knew that most nights I could just go down there and run into friends,” says Lash.
“It was known for being the CBGBs of the West Coast and it was not far off, but it was just a working rock ‘n’ roll bar. You get a shot; tickets were cash and cheap. They had souvlaki. The bathrooms were disgusting,” says Caston.
King points out, “the chances were very good that there were people you wanted to avoid as well.” Friends and enemies showed up at the club. “I don’t know if I can describe how oddly welcoming, not even oddly, but just how welcoming Satyricon was,” says Gates. “It was a place where so many different people would go.”
“There was no hierarchy at all, no table service, no bottle service, VIP section, no reservation. No anything.” Watkins says, comparing it to today’s common, tiered ticketing. “It just was for the people by the people. It was so integral to the community of Portland, you know? I don’t think they have many places like that anymore.”
“It was the greatest thing,” says King. “If only you had been there it would’ve been amazing. It was a magical time when everyone was in love and everyone got along.”
The one thing that can’t be viewed through nostalgia’s rosy lens: “The bathroom was disgusting,” says Lash. The building—and bathroom—were demolished in 2011.
When Leni Zumas’ Red Clocks came out in 2018, the speculative novel was widely lauded, not just for Zumas’ quicksilver prose, but for the story’s dystopic setting: a United States of America where the practice of abortion has been criminalized. Now, in the space of seven years, that speculation has become reality for the residents of 12 states. Red Clocks struck a relevant chord for those who saw the tide shifting.
Zumas’ new novel Wolf Bells is an obvious step forward in terms of clarity and employs her ultra readable, highly-effective form—the merry-go-round of characters whirs to life. However, I wonder if it’s possible for the book to receive even a shadow of the same acclaim as her previous novel. Not only is it not about a hot button issue, but it’s centered on people society would like to forget: older women, disabled people, the elderly, and students, among others.
This time Zumas’ speculation is a nice idea about a house, an intentional community where young and old live together in a grand, three-story historic home.
Run by Caz—a successful musician past her heyday—and her bandmate/best friend Vara, the house has a lot of problems (they need to hire a nurse) and delights (someone always seems to be cooking). Caz has tried to create a mutually beneficial set-up to keep elderly tenants out of impersonal facilities by offering free rent to students in exchange for weekly chores and keeping company with their older housemates.
Zumas’ circling narrative flits between the residents’ respective histories and that of the home itself, beginning with the tragic circumstances under which it was originally built, in 1919, and returning at irregular intervals to tease out mysteries. Like with Red Clocks, the method of Zumas’ storytelling may be the whole point. That book drew readers in, then led them through an artfully designed tale about some of the physical and emotional stages women can traverse in their lives. The device shines even brighter in Wolf Bells.
It’s not hard to imagine the novel’s characters leading quiet lives together, leaning on one another to fill in the gaps society does not.
All might have been well had the house not received two runaways, a resourceful 13-year-old, Nola, and her younger cousin, James—together fleeing an intention to place James in a far off facility. Ten years old and autistic, James doesn’t speak, but he’s equally represented in Zumas’ cycling perspectives. She presents him as reasonable—simply following his own rationale. This could so easily stray into cloying, but it works. It all works. His narration is probably the riskiest part of Wolf Bells, aside from making the book about groups of people society is aggressively working to forget.
Leni Zumas appears in Conversation with Lidia Yuknavitch at Powell’s City of Books, 1005 W Burnside, Tues Sept 16, 7 pm, FREE, all ages
