Nathan Weinbender

It seems appropriate that the two members of Beacon met while studying visual arts in college, since they liken producing songs to putting together art installations. Jacob Gossett and Thomas Mularney III are the songwriters behind the lush, moody electronica of Beacon, who stop by the Bartlett on Sunday. “I was doing performance art in school, and I was always inching closer and closer to being a performer and making music,” Mularney said. “In hindsight, I always approached visual art musically … It was always something cerebral, something you could feel.”

Spokane Symphony conductor Eckart Preu describes this weekend’s program as consisting of two small hills and a giant mountain. That’s not to say that one piece is better than the others, or that two of them are stylistically simple. No, the so-called “mountain” is Austrian composer Gustav Mahler’s Symphony No. 5, which clocks in around 75 minutes and requires a tremendous amount of musical stamina. Not many pieces can quite measure up. Mahler was all about ambition and scope – his eighth symphony requires so many musicians that it’s colloquially referred to as the “Symphony of a Thousand” – and Symphony No. 5, which debuted in 1904, is no exception. Over the course of five movements, Mahler goes from funereal and dirgelike to celebratory and exultant, and all the individual moving parts within the orchestra are famously difficult.

Spokane Symphony conductor Eckart Preu describes this weekend’s program as consisting of two small hills and a giant mountain. That’s not to say that one piece is better than the others, or that two of them are stylistically simple. No, the so-called “mountain” is Austrian composer Gustav Mahler’s Symphony No. 5, which clocks in around 75 minutes and requires a tremendous amount of musical stamina. Not many pieces can quite measure up. Mahler was all about ambition and scope – his eighth symphony requires so many musicians that it’s colloquially referred to as the “Symphony of a Thousand” – and Symphony No. 5, which debuted in 1904, is no exception. Over the course of five movements, Mahler goes from funereal and dirgelike to celebratory and exultant, and all the individual moving parts within the orchestra are famously difficult.

All comedy revels in anarchy, but great comedy revels in the anarchy that results when the best intentions go disastrously wrong. (I’m reminded of that great Steve Martin quote about chaos only being funny when it’s in the midst of order.) “The Servant of Two Masters,” written by Carlo Goldini in the 1750s and updated for modern audiences by Jeffrey Hatcher, is one of the most chaotic comedies ever conceived: It’s the antecedent to everything from “Duck Soup” to “Noises Off” to that standby sitcom plot in which a guy has two different dates at the same time and must bounce back and forth between them undetected. Premiering this weekend at the Spokane Civic Theatre, “The Servant of Two Masters” maintains a screwball breathlessness for its entire duration. It’s got the kind of complex, whirligig plot that can easily come crashing down if the energy level flags for even a moment, but the Civic cast pulls this one off. You get the sense that the actors are having an absolute blast clowning their way through this material, and the play ends up being as much fun to watch as it no doubt was to perform.

The Randy Rogers Band has been playing together since the early 2000s, but they still consider themselves to be journeyman musicians. They’ve had a handful of successful albums – their last two LPs were Top 10 hits – and have amassed a sizable audience over the years, but most of their time has been (and likely always will be) devoted to the road. “We’ve been on the road 15 years now, and we make our living playing shows,” frontman Randy Rogers said. “We call it the never-ending tour. … We’re a big family, and it’s a way of life.”

New Year’s Eve is as much about honoring tradition as it is embracing change, and First Night Spokane follows that framework. Now in its 14th year, First Night is an all-night celebration of art, music, performance and community in downtown Spokane.

Kent Ueland had been playing with Terrible Buttons his entire adult life when the band dissolved earlier this year. The local folk seven-piece, which had amassed a devoted fan base during the five years it was active, announced their split via Facebook just a few weeks before the band’s final show in May. “Life takes people different ways,” Ueland said. “Some of us wanted to tour and make this our main thing, and some of us had real lives. But we did what we could with our time together, and I think we did pretty well. … It was a good run. I loved being in that band and I miss it like nothing else.”