And now, we return to one of Write All Nite’s favorite concepts: deliberately-ineffectual art that serves the art’s ultimate effect.
Even though both cinema and theater are predominantly observational mediums, they sure do like to avoid steeping the audience in observing the minute face of the act of artistic creation and audience consumption.
How does an actor play a character who can’t find the words to express themselves?
There’s a contradiction at the heart of one-person plays about trauma.
A musical version of Romeo and Juliet.
Remember when two different theater companies simultaneously decided to stage (restage?) James Baldwin and William Buckley’s 1965 debate?
The Stevens = my version of the Academy Awards, where the only member of the Academy choosing the nominees and winners for each of this hallowed — and, often, hollow — institution’s official feature-length categories (plus two, sans one; Best Picture will be tomorrow) is…me.
What Jexi could’ve been:
HOT FUCKING DAMN.
From the very first song of Sunday’s three hour and 22-minute, 33-song concert in Berlin, Bruce seemed to make a point of constructing a setlist that specifically, albeit subtly commented upon the tragic history and hopeful future of this extraordinary city. One of the MANY benefits of stalking following Bruce around Europe is realizing how …