When you say to me, “I hate pigeons,” I want to ask you who else do you hate. It makes me suspicious. I once met a girl who was so proud to have hit such a bird on her bicycle, I swear, I thought that it was me she hit. I felt her handlebars in my stomach and now it is your job to feel it also. The pigeons are birds, they are doves. They are the nature of the city and the ones who no one loves.
—“Pigeon Manifesto” by Michelle Tea, from her forthcoming collection (but written in 2004), via The Rumpus. I liked it so much, I cut it up and used it as a monologue in my acting class at the Boston Center for Adult Education.
Bonus bird art (with an inspiring backstory, if you click):
The aspect of reflection is present in every piece in the gallery, suggesting that your touch would leave earth-shattering fingerprints, or send ripples radiating over the surface. It’s enough to make you want to step lightly, to glide through their coolness in the garden-level gallery. But the message isn’t too slippery to grasp, not when [Lidzie] Alvisa is literally spelling out “EGO” and “REFLECTION” on her mirrors, or [Donis] Llago is painting some of the world’s most famous buildings. I didn’t expect to have such a visceral reaction to a show that appears, on its slick surface, to be so understated.
From my review of “Transparent?” at A R E A, featuring two Cuban artists who are also a couple. The curator, David Guerra, shared the review with them, and told me that one said “this makes me want to work endlessly.” So, it was a good month for art feelings.
It is rare for a group exhibition as hip as “The Shaman Show” to feel so warm. Maybe it’s because iartcolony is the curators’ home – a building, they will tell you, with a surprising link to Shamanism. But it’s probably because their careful commissioning of new works has a specific goal: “to cure the village of jealousy and envy.”
That’s about a third of my 1,000-character review of The Shaman Show at iart colony in Rockport, my first review for Delicious Line. Jill and Bob are totally lovely, and the show has been extended through July 9.
“The Flick” by Annie Baker
Stage play, 200 pages
I missed “The Flick,” Annie Baker’s play about workers in failing movie theater, when it played in Boston in 2013, although I did get to see all three of her Vermont plays in 2010 (and reviewed “Body Awareness” for Blast Magazine). “The Flick” went on the win the Pulitzer Prize for Drama in 2014, despite being controversially boring to many NYC audience members. This wasn’t surprising to me, having seen the Vermont plays: “Body Awareness” and “Circle Mirror Transformation” are fairly conventional in their dialogue and pacing, but Baker wields silence like a pressure-washer in “The Aliens.” It reminds me of what Christian Cruz said in the 2017 Experimental Action panel in Houston: “the duration is the medium.” Apparently these audience members didn’t get the memo.
That said, one NYT commenter did question whether the Pulitzer committee just read the play, and didn’t see it performed—I hope not, because reading it, as I did this month, is a drastically different experience. You can skim over the long sections where the characters sweep popcorn in silence, instead of squirming in your seat, trying desperately not to check your phone in the darkness. But forget that—the play is great, and, as most plays are, a fast read. Read this interview with Annie first (and note how much she hates “Body Awareness,” which I would call the most conventional of her Vermont plays) to get in the mood.
“The Plague” by PRAXIS Stage at Dorchester Art Project
Adapted from “La Peste” by Albert Camus
Directed by Daniel Boudreau
“The Plague” is another “endurance” performance of sorts, with the small cast barely addressing each other. They instead recount events to the audience, sometimes in unison speeches. A slightly boring affair, but important message—I was impressed with the actors, especially Dayenne C. Byron Walters as Dr. Rieux.
PRAXIS formed after the 2016 election “with the goals of linking theater with activism and producing plays that enter contemporary political crisis points and ongoing cultural conversations,” and they certainly succeeded in doing that in this production. I’m looking forward to seeing what these talented company members do next.
“Cold Blood” by Astragales at ArtsEmerson
Directed by Michèle Anne De Mey and Jaco Van Dormael
What to say about this—essentially it’s a bunch of mini-sets on a mostly dark stage with a bunch of cameras wheeling around, projecting the close up image on a screen hanging sort of in front of the cast. So, the screen is at the forefront, but you can still see the production “crew” producing the effects. The characters onscreen are, for the most part, the actors’ hands.
There’s a haunting soundtrack, too, and a narrator detailing the course of eight different deaths. The book is drippingly French, dramatic with some misogynistic undertones in places (and why a cannibal, why), but I was so fascinated by the production value and practical effects that I barely cared. Take a look for the spectacle, if they come to your city.
I can’t let this month pass without noting how much I loved Kitty Drexel’s review of the Huntington’s production of Caryl Churchill’s play “Top Girls” (which I didn’t see). The quick pivots remind me of Dorothy Parker’s theater reviews (not Dorothy-Parker-as-meme), if Dorothy Parker were an internet-literate disabled activist.
Highlights (links hers):
Congrats to the Huntington for finally get that permanent ramp set up….
Sure, we can try to have it all now, but the 80’s were unconscionably cruel to women who desired a career and a family. PR/Marketing still pits women against each other. There was no having at all. There was only Zuul.…
Marlene (Carmen Zilles) is traditionally cast with a white women because England is so white that humans go there to complete the bleaching process… But, times are changing and today’s London is much more diverse. Zilles is such a compelling actress; it must have been difficult not to cast her.
The extra-special highlight came later in the evening: listening to old, white men make noises of discomfort during the emotional third act when Churchill’s sexual politics stop being nice and start getting real….
The cheap seats will watch backs, and lose some of the action but that’s what you get for being cheap….
New England is home to many talented actors. The Huntington hired only one of them for this production. Please consider this information when purchasing tickets.
I feel these are the audience’s stories that I am percolating and pushing back out at them, but in a way that makes you question your own prejudice and perception and role in this society, in this world. Theatre is deeply political for me. Drama has got to mean something, it’s got to do something to you, it’s got to make you think.
—Irish playwright Deidre Kinahan in a fun interview for HowlRound
No work of art, no matter how incisive, beautiful, uncomfortable or representative, needs to exist. Yet the internet — the same force that has increased awareness of social-justice movements — has hyperbolized all entreaties to our fragmented attention spans. It’s now as easy to see all the incredible and twisted ways the world causes suffering as it is to waste a couple hours scrolling through Twitter. The concerned citizen’s natural response is to prioritize. It’s why so many outlets seem to invoke moral outrage as a growth strategy — and why being told what you need to read or watch starts to be appealing.
—“What Do We Mean When We Call Art ‘Necessary’?” by Lauren Oyler for the New York Times. A really fantastic piece, best coupled with Beth Pickens’ “Your Art Will Save Your Life.” It made me wonder if I’ve called something “necessary” in a review… google wouldn’t tell me. But I’ll be conscious of it going forward.
Ours wasn’t just the righteous satisfaction of justice finally served, or even the hot joy of revenge. For sure, there was real pleasure in the prospect of seeing bad men suffer. But there was also another, less flattering kind of enjoyment, floating right beneath the waterline of consciousness. For all the great to-do, all the scandal and vindication, there were certain stars of film and television — just a select few, we told ourselves, a special club — whom, in a week or month or two, once the fires were out, we would find it in our hearts to forgive. That’s a lie, actually. We wouldn’t forgive them. But we also wouldn’t stop watching their shows.
—“Bad TV” by Andrea Long Chu for N+1. A long, extremely human take on #MeToo.
A story about a bickering couple does not threaten the institution of marriage. Heart of Darkness might disapprove of colonialism, but it’s not an attack on empire itself. The book deals in strict dualities and reinforces the superiority of Western culture and ideas. Africa, its jungle, is what blackens Kurtz’s heart, and just in case you start to feel uncomfortable because you find yourself identifying with him, the supposed bad apple—the Lynndie England of nineteenth-century Europe—Marlow, the novel’s cordon sanitaire, is there to make you feel better.
—“Comforting Myths” by Rabih Alameddine for Harper’s, exploring who gets to tell stories and who truly threatens the status quo.
Please peruse this brutal, beautifully-photographed parade of the makeshift gas masks of Gaza.
In 1922, [Man] Ray took Gertrude Stein and Picasso’s Portrait, which shows her seated perpendicular to Picasso’s portrait of her, with the painted Stein regarding the real one…. Stein had granted Ray the exclusive right to photograph her, but this arrangement—and their friendship—ended in 1930, when Ray billed her for his services. That base mercenary request was out of place in the prestige economy. “My dear Man Ray,” Stein wrote. “We are all hard up, but don’t be silly about it.”
—“Gertrude Stein’s Mutual Portraiture Society” by Anne Diebel for the Paris Review. I’m always up for a reference to Man Ray being a clod (more later on why I am slogging through his autobiography, ugh), but it does make me consider how we barter as artists now, particularly from writer to artist. I wonder what a literary portrait would look like now… or is a literary portrait just a positive review? An homage through poetry? And what’s the exchange rate on those items?
As women, we slowly learn, the greatest thing we are expected to do with our lives is love and be loved in return. No matter what else we might want to do, this is the height to which we’re expected to aspire. Men who love are enlightened beings, heroes of musicals. Women who love are just doing their job, what we were born to do. And so we hit the rose quartz ceiling.
—“The Rose Quartz Ceiling: When It Comes To Love, Men Are Praised For What Women Are Simply Expected To Give” by Jaya Saxena for Catapult. Incidentally, I just bought tickets to see the new Moulin Rouge musical in July, for the exact reasons laid out in the intro.
“As a faith leader, my moral duty is to speak in support of a woman’s sacred and constitutional right to make decisions for herself,” [says Reverend Millie Peters]. “Christian scripture tells of Jesus doing good and never judging nor shaming anyone. We are compassionate people who respect human dignity, and our responsibility is to speak for quality healthcare; a basic religious value.”
—“The Religious Coalition Blessing Abortion Clinics Across America” by Caroline Kent for Broadly
The Hot Spring at Lake Tecopa is an impermanent work.
The land is not the setting for the work but a part of the work.
A spring is not a pool but a process.
Heat is the method by which the water pulls us back into our bodies.
A quick poetry recommendation: “So Long The Sky” by Mary Kovaleski Byrnes. Mary is a poetic force of nature in the Emerson community and beyond — she was actually the grad student assigned to call me when I was offered a fellowship, to try to convince me to attend. Obviously, it worked. She was one of the first guests on my radio show way back when, and co-founded EmersonWRITES, where I taught playwriting. Now her first book is out, and it’s wonderful, traversing the world and family histories with an un-boring soft touch.
Russ Tamblyn joined Twitter and I love it: