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.
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.
that moment before something is about to happen where anything is still possible in between this is where you are stuck
A theatre foyer. Night. It is empty. The doors are locked. But if there were a woman there...
Dangling in mid-air like a thrust-out tongue, an oval-shaped rocky surface extends from the mouth of a cave to form a rough-hewn apron stage in the middle of a mountain.
It is the fantasy of a body discovering new relationships with itself. Silvia wants to be where there are no dimensions, neither internal nor external.
It’s an experiment in placing the private in public, says the director—a device HE will learn to use well in the many years to come.
Signs of violence are everywhere. Personal belongings, clothing, shoes, boxes, handbags, papers are scattered everywhere.
I hope you will forgive my using you. This trip we have no compass, but our ship, driven by Providence or stress of weather, needs some constellation to point us home.
Can you see it? A huge expanse of water, crystal clear, a cliché. Dotted with little floating heads.