Archives

Lengua materna / Mother tongue

Published by

I do not imagine a theater, because I live theater, breathe it in and out; I dream it. But, if I had to imagine a theater, then I'd like to imagine that the languages that have been forgotten, which are still spoken in many parts of the world, would be part of this new playwriting.

Yeah, I Said It. Suck Your Mum.

Published by

Optional reading soundtrack: “SYM” by Kano (Hoodies All Summer, 2019). “SYM” (Suck Your Mum) is the closing track from British Grime-pioneer […]

the theatre that I do not wish to imagine but wish to have

Published by

The theatre that must exist is ugly and unsatisfying, much of the time. It is defined by failed efforts and a bizarre-bordering-on-pathological determination to return to the scene of the crime (in this scenario, artists are the criminals; art is the bullet; guess who the victims are?).

The Fellowship

Published by

The quality varies as much as the content because the members of the fellowship are amateurs in the most generous definition of the word — people who are lovers of something rather than experts or professionals who do something for money. That is not to say that their offering is something lesser than a “professional” one, but more like a home-cooked meal versus something from a restaurant.

A Meniscus Around My Fingers

Published by

The sun filters through and different hues dance on the table top and blind my eyes. I’m busy but I’ve stopped, and I run my finger softly over it. Its surface, as smooth as a mirror, seems to form a meniscus around my fingers and just for a moment I’m not sure where it begins and I end.

feast

Published by

It is raw, it is real, it is happening with you in the room and can only be experienced in the “here and now.” It is open to a multiplicity of heres and nows depending on the realities, perceptions, localities... of those present.

ingat (to take care)

Published by

that moment before something is about to happen where anything is still possible in between this is where you are stuck

Dear Joan

Published by

A theatre foyer. Night. It is empty. The doors are locked. But if there were a woman there...