We know D.C. Get our free newsletter to stay in the know.



It’s been nearly 50 years since Jackson Pollock took to the great white canvas in the sky, and Hollywood hasn’t yet produced a Lust for Life-style biopic on the prototypic American action painter. Which is a shame, since his life was full of episodes that just beg to be writ in sensationalist celluloid: Pollock pissing into gallery owner Peggy Guggenheim’s fireplace as her stunned party guests look on; Pollock drunkenly ranting at the moon from a New York City rooftop; Pollock slamming his Oldsmobile into a tree with his mistress beside him. Ed Harris plans to fill the gap with Pollock, his long-planned ab-exploitation project, but since the film still awaits a distribution deal, I’ll settle for tonight’s staged reading of Richard Rashke’s Pollock biodrama, Season to Season. The press release promises “adult themes,” so I expect some two-timing, dangerous driving, drunken rambling, and—just maybe—public urination. At 7:30 p.m. at the Corcoran Museum of Art’s Hammer Auditorium, 500 17th St. NW. $20. (202) 639-1770. (Leonard Roberge)