A Hooligan Reflection : Gloss
I imagine theatre as the knife.
I imagine theatre as the knife.
I welcome you. Go for a walk in the field. In the woods. Meadow. Desert. Street. Bring a roasted chicken dinner. Share it. All night there are sighs amongst us, a caress.
Gradually, the audience realizes that the rocks are this canyon's performers. It is the slowest performance to which this audience has ever borne witness.
Language is a kind of (public) theater.
A thought experiment on the theatre's means of communication and feeling. One of two arguments from the book.
There is a gun in the first act.
They must fully learn the role, but then are given an appropriate span of time to forget it sufficiently.