The Sacred Something
This landscape offers things up to you – and your body takes its place among them. Rest for a moment. You do not need to make anything appear; so much is already here, and you are not even close to being in control.
Archives
Correspondence : Gloss
Maybe these letters and numbers help me imagine a catastrophic snowfall in Shelby County, KY, or the action in Correspondence. But really the numbers aren’t for me. They’re for my laptop.
A Plastic Theatre : Gloss
A plastic theatre is deathless, staticky, sticky, silent. It is scary and strangely safe. Creepy and clinical but also ubiquitous.
Oroonoko, Called You, An Essay in Three Acts : Gloss
Who goes with Caesar? A Drama in One Act SETTING The hold. A thick and layered darkness. A heavy odor […]
[UNTITLED] Water, Perspex, Soil, etc. : Gloss
The auteur at the heart of her text yearns to close the gap between the art object and herself, the art star. At least, she wants the appearance of having forsaken aesthetic detachment. And we’re with her.
One-scene-one-person-one-song-musical
I’m a playwright by trade, and like Wainwrights and Shipwrights, in this modern world Playwrights are pretty useless. It is a dying art. Seriously disrupted.
Vanya in Krivina : Gloss
This was a long way from the contained theatre of a Chekhov play presented over a couple of hours and yet it was the same play. Instead, the audience was living with the characters in that house.