Kid Ends Play
[people] KIDlatinx. male. half-goat. OLD LADY latinx. female. half-goat. A CROWD OF CHARACTERS all half-goat. refer to stage directions for […]
[people] KIDlatinx. male. half-goat. OLD LADY latinx. female. half-goat. A CROWD OF CHARACTERS all half-goat. refer to stage directions for […]
The audience files into the theater. Lights fade out, chatting subsides. Lights up. a figure enters from stage left. They […]
The public wanders through a collection of rooms, each with a different performance, exhibit, reading, meeting, game, discussion. Their experience is not fixed. They wander without moorings, the way a curious reader meanders through the pages of a magazine, not knowing what they’re searching for.
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?).
sharing rhythm creates a political question about who determines rhythm and when trio in unison, with the possibility of becoming either backup dancers or soloists open-ended and absurdist and nonsensical shame as part of gaze
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.
We hear an undeniably human voice. First a few. Then hundreds. Then thousands. Then all of the human voices in the world, all at once.
It should be noted that the history of populism in the Americas is deeply entwined with the history of the balcony.
This continues until the horses have formed a tower, one on top of the other.
The curtain opens on the cold, wintry Atlantic Ocean.