Mark Adams is not one of the glittering directors who amazes his audiences with flash-in-the-pan pyrotechnics. His work is most striking for the fact that it is quiet, strong and practically invisible. All the work and rehearsals disappear in his shows and allow the actors and the script to take center stage, which is exactly where they should be. That was especially true of his production of Gore Vidal's timely political piece The Best Man, about a presidential campaign that looked creepily current, even though the script was written in the '60s. The most amazing part of Adams's direction, aside from the pitch-perfect cast he put together, was the ferocious undercurrent of energy he managed to infuse into what could have been a very dull play about politics. As it was, The Best Man became one of the most memorable productions of the season, thanks to its smart and very savvy director.

The drinks are cold and cheap, the jukebox will make you weep, and the shuffleboard is slick and true at this strip-mall tavern just off South Post Oak. The owner — Ms. Crowe herself—is a former Chronicle printer and has a lifetime of stories to tell, and occasional stragglers from the African-American strip club across the street enliven the clientele. In a city rapidly filling with sleek lounges, wine bars and oontz-oontz douche-a-toriums, the Crowe Bar is a sweet reminder of days gone by.

Way too few DJs manage to do anything original; many just seem to play the same records and never dare to venture outside the box. There's no room for mediocrity in a good DJ, and we're glad Squincy Jones figured this one out. As co-founder of the genre-splitting night Speakerboxx at The Backroom with his partner Dayta, he's pushed as many boundaries and/or genres as he can find into one DJ set. From guilty pleasure '80s to the latest in electro or local hip-hop, he's throwing it all in a pot and cooking a big kick-ass stew of "I don't give a fuck and I'm going to make you dance your ass off."

Kofi is a perennial favorite, and winner, of Best of Houston®. In fact, you might think there's not another drag queen in town, but Tuesday nights at JR's Bar & Grill prove differently. The show starts at 11 p.m. as Kofi dances and lip-synchs to songs from the diva collection. Beforehand, at 9 p.m., the bar hosts Drag Queen Bingo, which is pretty much bingo with drag queens. Kara and Sofanda are regular number callers. (Proceeds from the event are donated to charity.) Still, Kofi manages to steal the show. Even if drag queens aren't your thing, check her out.

The Alley Theatre's production of Theresa Rebeck's The Scene was one of the most deliciously disturbing productions of the season. Focusing on an out-of-work actor who spirals out of control, the story managed to make many wonderfully wry observations about the current human condition. Everything from television to overeating to vapid sex got a moment to shine in all its glorious hideousness. But the script, for all its cleverness, would not have been worth much without the great cast that director Jeremy B. Cohen put together. Each of the four actors in the show seemed born for their parts. Jeffrey Bean raged with brilliant craziness as broken Charlie; Elizabeth Bunch was equally terrific as beautiful bitch Clea; Liam Craig was yummy as quiet and kicked-about sidekick Lewis; and the only thing wrong with Elizabeth Rich as the much-abused Stella was that we didn't get to see more of her. Put them all together, and the four actors plus their director made theatrical dynamite.

The Bayou City Art Festival isn't just the best in Houston — it's among the best events of its kind in the country, frequently ranking among the top five festivals in Sunshine Artist magazine, the result of a vote by participating artists. BCAF is actually two festivals, or rather one festival that happens twice a year, once downtown and once in Memorial Park. Both are juried fine-art events that attract more than 300 artists working in 19 different media, including glass, photography, sculpture and painting. There are plenty of performing artists as well, with two stages that have a full ­schedule of dance and music. There's also a Creative Zone where budding Rembrandts can try their hands at making masks, wax hand sculptures and painted rocks. While it's a lot of fun, BCAF is also serious business. During the past 37 years, the festival has raised more than $2.5 million for local charities.

Michael Somoroff (the mastermind behind the Rothko Chapel installation Illumination I) took more than two dozen photographs from legendary German photographer August Sander's collection "People of the Twentieth Century" and removed the people. His meticulous touch-ups made it look as if they were never there: In Pharmacist, all that was left was a tall bush next to a brick wall; in Blind Children, two open books on a table; and in Working Class Family, an empty chair. Somoroff spent more than two years reworking Sander's pieces, and even went as far as to animate some of the images so that leaves and books' pages subtly rustle in the wind, furthering the emptiness of each piece. Somoroff's process made these more than just ordinary scenes; the absence of the subject, as it were, put everything into a context that induced goose bumps and our appreciation of patience.

There may be some high-dollar underground poker rooms in the city, but Maxwell's Carwash ain't one of them. Located on the far north side of Houston, in a bright blue, wood-paneled building, the car wash isn't a large-scale operation, but there's an open lot and cleaning supplies out front. And there are some serious bones being thrown here. The domino games get pretty intense, so don't try to sit in if you don't know your game. A card game pops up from time to time, but the old-timers pretty much stick to dominos. Cold beer served from a cooler is a bonus.

If you noticed a lack of Give Up wheat-paste posters around town earlier this year, it's because the Give Up guy/gal had gone fishin'. Well, actually he (or she) was taking a vacation in the Pacific Northwest, collecting inspiration for his (or her) latest works. His (or her) return prompted plenty of eerie treasures picturing trees, spooky figures in the forest and woodland creatures. His (or her) change of pace was appreciated, because the only thing worse than looking at the same wall day after day is looking at the same kind of poster on that wall day after day.

We really mean what we say when we call this place hidden — it's on the side of a crumbling strip mall on an obscure side street off Willowbend Boulevard, which is never one of the first streets you think of when you think Houston nightlife. And then there are the train tracks nearby. Still, this little beer joint has two things going for it: an amazing jukebox compiled by somebody with a doctorate in honky-tonk and a concentration in Cajun/swamp-pop studies — as exemplified by its inclusion of damn near the complete works of Gary Stewart and Cookie and the Cupcakes. And it also sports one of the most amazing bar murals in town. One wall is entirely given over to a stylized study of a West Texas town dwarfed by a mountain range, with one of the peaks in full volcanic eruption. The aging biker and roughneck regulars have never met a stranger, so belly up and grab a can of Bud while it's still the American thing to do.

Best Of Houston®

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