Lady in White: Even D.C. media wasn't immune to the collective Whitney Houston mourning yesterday. DCist posted video of Houston's final D.C. performance in 1997, which was packaged as an HBO special called "Classic Whitney Live From Washington D.C."

Hoo-Ah!: In a ceremony on Monday, the White House honored Al Pacino with a National Medal of Arts (photos here). Other arts medals went to Rita Dove, Will Barnet, Martin Puryear, Mel Tillis, Andre Watts, and philanthropist Emily Rauh Pulitzer.

Front Page Muse: In case you missed it this weekend, read the New York Times' fairly conservative, surprisingly positive portrayal of the Washington Post's troubles navigating the choppy waters of the digital age.

Storified!: Washingtonian rounds up local media's Grammys tweets. Are you sick of the Grammys yet? Yes? OK, sorry. Read this piece about 90-year-olds dancing at The Fillmore Silver Spring, then.

Ring the Alarm: The local paper of record has lost its digital director, Raju Narisetti. Who shall capture the tin crown?

Tongue on Floor: WaPo's David Malitz really, really, really liked Monday's Thurston Moore show at Black Cat.

Dirty Work: Dunes owner Ora Nwabueze does an audio interview with Pink Line. Facts learned in the first five minutes: When Nwabueze was an antitrust attorney, arts was his "mistress,"; also, "The Dunes" is a Steely Dan reference.

We're the Luckiest By Far: In case you missed it: Madonna. D.C. 2012.

Yesterday on Arts Desk: Bluebrain's Hays Holladay might record your music for zero dollars.

Truth Hurts: Did the Washington Post ruin this touching story by running an enormous correction on top of it? TBD's Andrew Beaujon says never mind—it needed to be done: "The correction's not there to make you feel bad," he writes.

Harpin' on it: Click Track talks to D.C.'s very own vocalist/harpist, Rashida Jolley. So, how do you play a harp and sing at the same time—while on a worldwide tour with Lady Gaga? Well, now you know.

H Street Great Street: NBC4 personality Pat Collins grew up on H Street NE. He remembers when those trendy bars used to be five-and-dimes, people.

Yesterday on Arts Desk: Margaret Bowland v. The United States of America; meet David Hintz, the area's most prolific rock concert reviewer.

Washington City Paper: What type of comic work or cartooning do you do?

Mark Burrier: It’s mostly realistic fiction with a few exceptions.

WCP: When (within a decade is fine) and where were you born?

MB: 1979 in Hagerstown, Maryland. I'm slowing becoming an old, old man.

WCP: Why are you in the Washington area now?  What neighborhood or area do you live in?

MB: I live in Frederick, Md., not too far away from the District. I visit the city often.

WCP: What is your training and/or education in cartooning?

MB: Practice and osmosis. I’ve been drawing comics and self-publishing for over 10-plus years now.

WCP: Who are your influences?

MB: There are so many wonderful cartoonists, but I would have to say: Jacques Tardi, Guy Davis, Jaime Hernandez, Paul Pope, Blutch, Jack Kirby, Lynda Barry, Frederick Peeters, Christophe Blain, Charles Schulz, Charles Burns, Anders Nilsen, David B., John Romita, Jr., John Buscema, David Mazzucchelli, Al Williamson, and Joann Sfar. I find the writing of Flannery O’Connor, Stephen Dixon, Dave Eggers, and Haruki Murakami inspiring as well. The music of Fugazi and Radiohead mesmerize. I think artists should take inspiration from influences outside of their medium whenever possible.

WCP: If you could, what in your career would you do-over or change?

MB: While I understand you have to take small steps to get started, I think I would go back to my past self and tell me to stop doing anthology stories that experiment for the sake of experimentation. I had a habit of trying to do something different for different’s sake and not in the story’s best interest.

WCP: What work are you best-known for?

MB: I've been in a number of comic anthologies, including Kramers Ergot, but my minicomics “Noose” (which was nominated for an Ignatz Award and won “Best Comic Book” from the Baltimore City Paper) and “The Intruder” seem to stick in people's minds.

WCP: What work are you most proud of?

MB: The story I'm working on right now called "Withdraw." I see progress in each new story I do. I recently completed a five-page story for Nashville Review called “People Are Trying To Read” which I thought came out really well.

WCP: What would you like to do or work on in the future?

MB: I would like to work on a long-form story of my own that I don't plan out completely before beginning leaving the door open for something unexpected. I am also a fan of 1970-1990 Marvel comics. I think I have at least one Daredevil, Captain America, and Silver Surfer story in me. I also love pre-code horror comics and wouldn’t turn down an opportunity to do a horror story.

WCP: What do you do when you're in a rut or have writer's block?

MB: I just went through this about a year ago after completing “Noose.” I decided to focus just on drawing and not force the writing. So I started a drawing blog, Rare Words, to do drawings that I didn't have to think of. It worked. The readers submit a word or phrase with their name and I interpret it visually. I have complete visual freedom and the readers get to interact through the blog. A hardcover book collection of many of those drawings just came out.

WCP: What do you think will be the future of your field?

MB: Unfortunately digital. I cringe to think about it. I love all of the qualities of a mediocre printed comic book. There are few things in the world that are as pure to me. I already see computer-aided lettering becoming more accepted even in the independent community.

It’s a shame really. I recently had the opportunity of going to the Charles Schulz Museum in California and there was an exhibition of original art from many of the great newspaper cartoonists from 1920 to present day. The artisan precision in their lettering and inking is a fading skillset. That was my first time seeing that work in person and it challenged my draftsmanship to be better. I think all cartoonists could benefit.

WCP: What's your favorite thing about D.C.?

MB: Dischord Records. I learned to love the city through the creative work this label documented. They have a consistent voice and are an inspiration for anyone self-publishing.

WCP: Least favorite?

MB: Traffic.

WCP: Do you have a website or blog?

MB: markburrier.com and my drawing blog, http://rarewords.org. (Also twitter.com/markburrier and markburrier.etsy.com)

Style Wars: Arts Post, the Washington Post's kind of scattershot but increasingly solid arts blog, is now The Style Blog, which closed Friday with some news from the paper's visual arts critic, Phil Kennicott: A $500,000 slate of public art projects will take place during the Cherry Blossom Festival this spring. The increasingly strained D.C. Commission on the Arts and Humanities is footing the bill; there are 25 artists selected by five curators, and the projects will stretch across the city.

Quick Hits: KenCen drops Pal Joey from its season after the musical's director has a scheduling conflict, replaces it with a Kander and Ebb revue. John Kelly laments the closing of Melody Records and Penn Camera. The Phillips Collection's blog makes a connection between The Artist and a very chipper painting of a stage actor in the museum's collection.

Today on Arts Desk: "Reverb & Echo" at Studio Gallery.

NEW YEAR'S EVE

Given the personnel involved, Volta Bureau hasn’t had trouble getting local press since announcing its existence last spring. But one thing has been noticeably absent from most of the media coverage: a description of what these dudes sound like that’s a bit more precise than “supergroup.” (The trio includes popular local DJs and producers Will Eastman, Micah Vellian, and Outputmessage.) That slipperiness is surely to their credit, but let me take a stab anyway. Volta Bureau makes house music gone slightly hypnagogic. The songs’ skeletons are minutely academic, maybe even conservative, but they all eventually take a nostalgic, fuzzed-out trip to no era in particular. But this isn’t Ariel Pink for house lovers, because Volta Bureau’s dance anthems always stay grounded. That’s mostly thanks to Outputmessage’s vocals, a synthpop deadpan, plus, in some cases, live instrumentation that brings a little danger to the live set. Super. Volta Bureau DJs a New Year’s Eve party at 9 p.m. with Lxsx Frxnk at 9:30 Club Backbar, 815 V St. NW. $10. (Jonathan L. Fischer)

For more options, check out our New Year's Eve listings.

NEW YEAR'S DAY

Called the “Queen of Ethiopian Music,” Aster Aweke has performed to stadium-size crowds in her country, but for a period in the 1980s, she lived here, in exile, and played local restaurants several times a week. Between 1989 and 1991, she had a major-label deal with Columbia Records, who promoted her records to a “world music” audience, then dropped her from the roster. But her subsequent releases on Ethiopian and Ethiopian-American labels cemented her fanbase, and she went on to play a triumphant homecoming concert in Addis Ababa in 1997. Now in her 50s and living in Ethiopia, the vocalist has released her 23rd album (2010’s Checheho) and a slate of recent singles. Her relevance remains intact, particularly on her understated version of the ballad “Tizita,” and her newest cut, the flashier “Ye-inëta.” Over upbeat keyboards, Aweke joyously flaunts her vocal range and melds muezzin-like Ethiopian scales with African-American rhythm and blues. Tonight, anticipate a loyal crowd that’s stuck around since her days of wowing audiences at D.C. restaurants. Aweke performs with Dawit Melese Sunday at 11:45 p.m. at DC Star. $35 in advance, $40 at door. (Steve Kiviat)

THE DAY AFTER NEW YEAR'S DAY

The Vienna New Year’s concert is a lavish, legendary event. Every year, classical fans gather in the Austrian capital and tune in from around the world to hear one of Europe’s finest orchestras ring in the new year with a mix of waltzes, polkas, and czárdás. But around here, the closest thing we get to a Viennese New Year is off the Orange Line, with a plate of waffles at Amphora. That’s where “Salute to Vienna” comes in. The traveling show puts on aneujahrskonzert in 16 cities across North America, using local musicians backed by Austrian dancers, singers, and conductors. D.C.’s version of the Vienna Philharmonic will be led by Alexander Steinitz, featuring soprano Rebecca Nelsen and tenor Thomas Sigwald. The Vienna Imperial Ballet, whose misleading name suggests a legacy dating back to the Habsburgs—it was actually founded in 2003—will provide the visual flair, along with champion ballroom dancers. Expect a Strauss-heavy program including “The Blue Danube,” “Radetzky March,” and more pieces that made that other Vienna famous. Tuesday at 3 p.m. at the Music Center at Strathmore. $49-$95. (Mike Paarlberg)

Photo of Dan Zak by Jonathan Pushnik.

Background Check: The Los Angeles Times looks at the CVs of the National American Latino Museum's biggest advocates—celeb Eva Longoria and arts exec Jonathan Yorba—and their findings aren't very encouraging.

Duh: Rock-star urbanist Richard Florida maps Pitchfork's best tracks of 2011. The results are kind of a no-brainer, but still frustrating: Most bands on that revered list are from New York. (And D.C. did not fare well.) Unless Bon Iver finally puts my grandparents' hometown of Eau Claire, Wis., on the map, that probably won't change anytime soon.

This just in: DCist's white, high-income readership has no idea who Big Tigger is; WaPo's crotchety, old readership doesn't understand The List anymore.

More Post fare: Journalist finds pink iPod Shuffle in Sligo Creek, and relocates its owner by posting her (embarrassing) playlist on the Internet ... Theater directors give props to their favorite productions of the year ... The latest guy to sue James Cameron is D.C.'s Bryant Moore, who claims the director stole ideas from two screenplays he submitted to Cameron's production company. Those "bioluminescent rainforests of gargantuan alien trees"? All his idea, he says.

Today on Arts Desk: The Top 10 local tracks of 2011!

Ned Martel is pissed he's waiting an extra week to see Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy.

In Sunday's Washington Post Outlook section, the former editor of Style and occasional Washington City Paper punching bag took a deep dive on a frequent complaint of local filmgoers—that New York and Los Angeles get all the good movies first.

Back in the day, when there were only so many prints available and film distributors invented a pecking order, we were deemed second-rate. Washingtonians were supposed to have other things on their minds (pressing global concerns, perhaps?), and marketers devised a mysterious and self-serving metric for how long it took the cultural conversation to reach us.

In the 1980s, it was four weeks. Now, with their formula adjusted, the gurus say it’s more like two weeks — which is how long we’ll have to wait in January, when the Meryl-as-Maggie biopic “The Iron Lady” comes our way. Apparently, we’re still far behind the times.

I can't argue with Martel's rallying cry: Seeing limited release films the week I read about them in The New York Times and national magazines would be great. Maybe not above-the-fold-on-a-Sunday great, but I'm sure it'd make my cultural life at least a little richer.

It's also pretty unlikely to happen, though Martel's argument doesn't really address why. "Some box office numbers have D.C. inching ahead of other markets," Martel writes, and then quotes the head of distribution at indie Magnolia Pictures. ("At this point, Washington, D.C., can be seen as a higher-performing market for us than Los Angeles, Boston and Philadelphia.")

Although Martel spoke with seven box-office analysts, he tells me in a phone interview that city-by-city box office data is impossible to come by. "The studios are very guarded about the information," Martel says, later adding, "I did not analyze complete data for our region. It was not available to me. I spoke to a lot of people in the industry, many of whom could not be quoted, and they said this argument has merit."

So are Martel and his sources right? I called Peter Knegt, a box-office analyst and associate editor at Indiewire, who says that generally speaking, D.C., Chicago, Boston, and Austin have the highest indie-flick box office following the Big Two. He's sympathetic to the local cinema owners quoted in Martel's piece, who complained about losing out on press buzz and national campaigns. He points out that some limited release films, like The Descendants recently, do open in cities besides New York and L.A. But Knegt mentions a few reasons why most indie movie distributors aren't about to ditch their tiered release system.

Opening only in New York and L.A. is a way for distributors (particularly smaller ones) to limit their risk, especially if they're worried a film might not have legs. "It’s risky to put a film in 10 or 20 theaters in its first weekend," Knegt says. "If it sort of tanks, you’re screwed." Good box office in New York and L.A. can help prove a film is viable. "Some people might want to see Shame right now, but there are people at bigger theaters who want to see" how the film sells out of the gate, Knegt says.

Lots of prestige films that come out at the end of the year open in New York City and L.A., because the Academy Awards' eligibility rules essentially require it. Those runs can take place in an extremely small number of theaters; if the films get an Oscar nod, that can generate bigger sales around the country. (Or at least Oscar-driven marketing campaigns.)

Finally, distributors want to be able to show off a high per-screen sales average the first week, which they can do by opening in a small number of large houses in reliably film-friendly cities. So even a sold-out E Street Cinema could lower the average sales if the film is also opening in Hollywood's massive ArcLight. (This doesn't always hold true, of course: Take Precious, Knegt said, which had a remarkable per-screen average opening in New York, L.A., Chicago, and Atlanta.)

But yes, sure, it makes sense that some indie films could benefit from a simultaneous D.C./New York/L.A. opening, hard data or not. I'm not sure Martel makes the case.

His argument hinges on a few points: First, that D.C. audiences, who are affluent and sophisticated, have bought lots of tickets to films like Margin Call, Food, Inc., and Page One. Numbers, though? They're not on offer. And it's hard to know, empirically, how a moved-up release date would impact box office.

Second, Martel says niche films are able to find a robust group of supporters in D.C. "Washington is emerging as a megaphone city, a place where citizens often organize around a movie and amplify its values," he writes.

Hip-hop lovers came in large numbers to see the documentary “Beats Rhymes and Life: The Travels of A Tribe Called Quest.” Pacific Islander audiences turned out for “Amigo,” the John Sayles narrative feature about the Philippine-American War. Hispanic viewers showed up for “The Way,” starring Martin Sheen and Emilio Estevez making a religious pilgrimage in Spain. Gay men thronged to see a one-night stand flower into love in “Weekend.” And “The Autobiography of Nicolae Ceaucescu” lured former intel types, Iron Curtain emigres and practitioners of word-and-image polemics who are making Washington an international capital of documentary film.

OK. We can assume that people who went to the hip-hop movie are into hip-hop. But Stephanie Kagan, of Landmark Theatres (the chain that runs E Street Cinema and Bethesda Row), and Jamie Shor (a co-owner of West End Cinema) tell me their theaters don't do any sort of demographic tracking. So while West End did host the Filipino ambassador at the opening of The Way ("I can find a community around every single film," Shor tells me), there's no real way of knowing how many Pacific Islanders turned out to see the film. And while it had a two-week run that sold lots of tickets, we're still just talking about two weeks.

Similarly, there's no way of knowing how many ex-spooks showed up for the Ceaucescu documentary. Martel admits that paragraph is anecdotal. "That was all from the theater owners," he says.

Martel's point is that D.C., being something of an international city, has a remarkable diversity of niches. It's also got power. "If you walk into the Loews in Georgetown on a Saturday night on opening weekend of any given title,” political strategist Mike Feldman tells Martel, “it’s hard to throw your Snickers bar across the room and not hit someone who has an audience, a following, a reach, some influence." Actually, the last time I went to the Loews in Georgetown on a Saturday night, the vast majority of the audience seemed to be under the age of 25. (I'm pretty confident in that particular anecdotal analysis.)

So how is D.C. able to translate its many niches into cultural influence? Feldman, for example, arranged showings of An Inconvenient Truth (his former boss Al Gore's film) for columnists and science writers. Other movies—The Hurt Locker, Inside Job—have been screened privately to local experts. But that's an argument for how Hollywood could benefit from more advance viewings in D.C., not simultaneous openings. “It starts with you seeing the film, and you might tweet about it, you might blog about it, you might talk to a friend who’s a producer of a dayside cable show who might need a segment that is not a live shot from the Capitol or the White House," Feldman tells Martel. But even there, it's not clear D.C. is more deserving of advance screenings than, say, Chicago or San Francisco, where people blog and tweet, too. Six hundred thousand people live in the District. I'm pretty sure most of us don't have buddies who work for Meet the Press.

Martel disagrees.  "I think there are, to use a marketing term, 'thought leaders,' here," he tells me. When there's a discussion of the cultural influence of the D.C. and its media, "people pooh-pooh it. People say it’s not special. But it is special.”

More special than, say, Chicago? I ask Martel if an opinion writer at the Tribune could come up with a similar argument about movie openings. “I encourage them to,” he says. His gist was to look at the local moviegoer's side of the argument, not the overall picture or industry logic. "The main point is that there’s more demand than the mechanisms supply," he says. "I do think [distributors] could be more creative."

I'd rather not overstate D.C.'s mania for smart movies. We clearly like them. But so do other cities that Hollywood considers "second-tier." And please—let's ditch this crap about Washington's cultural life being a significant extension of its political, policy, and diplomatic life. That's the kind of bullshit that makes D.C. movies terrible.

Washington is about to lose one of its veteran dance critics. George Jackson, 80, a Southwest resident, has announced he’ll be giving up dance reviewing this month. Since 1972, Jackson has been taking in and commenting on Washington dance performances for local papers like the now-defunct Washington Star and the Washington Post, as well as national and international ones such as Dance magazine, DanceView, Ballet Review, and ballettanz. Most recently, he’s been contributing to the online danceviewtimes.com.

Jackson was born in Vienna, Austria, but was sent out by his parents when the Nazis invaded in 1938. He has since lived—and reviewed dance—in Chicago, New York, and Washington. One of the best things about Jackson is the breadth of his knowledge; he’s never limited himself to one particular genre—not in the early years, and not recently. Head to the Kennedy Center for a ballet performance and there he is the audience. Stop in at an informal showing of in-progress experimental works and Jackson is sitting in a rickety chair, taking notes.

Washington City Paper: How did you get interested in dance?

George Jackson: I think my interest goes back to childhood. My parents saw to it that I got to see different forms of art and performance. And I had been a child figure skater, and I think that sensitized me to movement values.

WCP: When did you first start reviewing?

GJ: I started ushering in the opera house in Chicago so I could see a lot of dance, and I started taking ballet class. This was when I started college at the University of Chicago. The editor of the campus paper came to me and said, “I need some dance reviews and I hear you’re interested in dance; can you try writing some?” That’s how I got started. I made it my business to see what was available. The ballet companies at that time all had short but regular seasons in Chicago. Modern dance was harder to see. Martha Graham came once a year for one performance, and it was usually sold out way ahead of time.

WCP: How did you wind up here?

GJ: I moved to Washington because a very good job opened up here with the Food and Drug Administration. My degree from the University of Chicago is in microbiology, and I’d specialized in parasites, and the FDA needed a food parasitologist. I’d been here a while and was writing about what was going on in Washington for Dance News and occasionally Dance magazine. And then both the Post and the Star at the same time contacted me—they said they needed extra reviewers, and would I review for them? Well, I tried both; first I wrote for the Star, and then later I wrote for the Post.

WCP: What was the Post’s coverage like then?

GJ: Alan Kriegsman was the principal critic at the Post, and there was more and more going on here and he couldn’t cover it all. Eventually, during the dance boom in the early '80s, he had seven other people writing. Dance Place got started then, and Liz Lerman got started around then. The Post at that time covered just about every dance performance between Baltimore and Richmond. One of the editors was a big dance fan, so she really pushed dance reviewers. I remember going to a performance at Eastern Market and there were perhaps five people in the audience. I wrote a long review, and I opened up the paper the next day, and the review of this small performance was as long as the one for a performance at the Kennedy Center.

WCP: What do you think that was about?

GJ: The readers seemed to want it: Dance was in. Very different from today, and different from what had been the case previously. In the '70s, and then into the early '80s, dance seemed to capture what was going on in society. It was at the forefront of what people were thinking in terms of politics, sexuality, economics, whatever. And the choreographers engaged in those things. These days, it’s not as relevant. I really don’t know why certain arts seem to thrive in certain periods and then go into a decline, and then perhaps a couple decades later are vivid again.

WCP: What are your thoughts about the field of criticism today? Michael Kaiser recently wrote a column for the Huffington Post about how criticism is suffering because of so many online citizen critics, and it seems to have gotten people talking.

GJ: The sense of dialogue among critics is something that’s missing. For example, when the Herald Tribune was in New York, two [dance] critics, there and at the New York Times, had a sort of dialogue. They would touch on similar issues and expand on one topic and another in dialogue. And that is what’s missing right now.

WCP: Are critics still crucial, do you think?

GJ: I think so. A critic is a substitute for somebody to talk to, to test your own reactions. There are so many people out there who go to performances and have nobody to talk to.

WCP: How do you feel about quitting reviewing?

GJ: My first review was published in 1950 and the time has come. I believe I can still see, hear, think, and feel, but one does grow slower. Because of that personal change, there is the need to guard against misjudging such things as pacing and duration. I'm not going to stop writing. There are two books I have in mind, in fact have started. If ever they are going to be finished, though, it should be now and without many interruptions. Regular reviewing, if done properly, is consuming.

Photo by Bernd Bienert