Here is a sign that was up on the door to the Wilmington Fringe Opening Gala.



It may have been intended as a Koan.

The entire Wilmington Fringe experience provided many spiritual lessons.

Haikveiw- #4 Something Intangible

you lazy writer
only a great actor could
make that script OK

P.S. In it's attempt to provide me with "excellent customer service" by refusing to sell me a ticket unless I gave them my full address and phone number during a 20 minute trip to the box office, the Arden successfully made me never want to go there again.

P.P.S. I do not like curtain speeches that ask for money, and when the cute actor stays on stage afterward to beg for it, I like it less.

This would be almost impossible to improve upon

Thank you, Li, who sent me this from the geniuses at here.

Haikview #3 - Central High School Drama Society prevents "Harvey"

bad mics, shaky sets
that kid in the fedora's
where I wanna be

Haikview #2 - In Arabia We'd All Be Kings

so nothing happens
is that really so bad? and
molly casey rocks

Haikveiw- Spring Tides

My haiku review (revku? haikview?) for "Spring Tides."

Finally something
with a girl in it, and sand
welcome, 119

The Fourth Wall is There to Protect You

I have been using the phrase, "I know I'm wrong," a lot lately. I should probably make a list.

I know I'm wrong, but I like the fourth wall. I don't like it when the actors interact with the audience, unless it's a) on a Cruise Ship, b)Ionesco's 'Victims of Duty.' I like to sit in the dark and not participate.

As soon as I think there might be some actor/audience interaction, I start looking for a way to avoid it. And I always sit in the middle or back, where volunteers are never picked from.


Oh No, Performers Coming Into Audience

I don't get it

I don't know what wormhole I accidentally tripped into in the Adrienne last week, it must have gotten opened up during the construction going on in the lobby, but it deposited me into a world where the play 'Dying City' was nominated for a Pulitzer prize.

This play is like a laundry list of things Rob Baron told us never to do in Playwrighting I, and on top of that it's really offensive (to my humanity.)

I don't get it.

No Costume Designer Listed...

I have always said that if you go to the theatre, and open up the program, and you see one person's name listed 3 or more times, especially if one of those times is as the director, it's a pretty safe bet that you are not about to have a wonderful theatre experience. (This rule generally also works if you see the same last name 3 or more times.)

But this:

Is a first.


(Another first- I have never seen more people sleeping in a play. It was arena seating on four sides, and I could see, I swear, at least two people sleeping on each side.)

Hedwig

Hedwig and the Angry inch is playing at the Trocodero, and posing a dilemma.

What if I go to see it and it's bad? That would be unbearable.

What if I don't go to see it and it's good? I still haven't stopped kicking myself for missing it when it was John Cameron Mitchell in the village for 15 dollars. It's, like, one of the stupidest things I've ever done.

I think I'm just gonna go. I can always wash my brain out with the movie.

The "Oh Snap" Trilogy

Thanks, Rat

Philly Fringe

The Philadelphia Fringe festival has been really amazing so far. The actors and artists here have so much humility and fearlessness, which I guess is what happens when there isn't oppressive pressure on everything you do.

My favorite thing I've seen in the festival so far is a dance piece After Fantastic based on the poetry of Dorothea Lasky, who also performed in the show. I laughed so hard I almost choked pretty much throughout. It was the most totally original thing I have seen in a long time, but also indescribable. You couldn't do it justice.

I also saw Sea of Birds, which had a really breathtaking set, although the show itself was kind of disappointing. The set was really expansive and dreamy, with a really particular style, but the story wasn't anything special, and it didn't have much emotional weight behind it. It was worth it to see the odd little flowers standing on their roots, the dreamy skeletal puppets and the huge, arcing bamboo poles.

Where do people get the guts to do this? To haul out all their spiral notebooks, and stand in a room reading them without editing? It knocks me out.

I had no idea that New York was so inhospitable to art and artists until I left. I also didn't realize what a negative effect it has on what's being produced. It's hard to make a good painting or show or project with six inches of body armor. So much more is possible without it.