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Study: Shakespeare Play Helps Children With Autism Communicate

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Hippolyta in The Two Noble Kinsmen at the RSC. 

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Please come soon

Stephen Sondheim announces details of new musical with David Ives

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Washed Away

Driving to a place called home was difficult that day. I remember having to skip my normal exit to find traffic on the only open exit to my small town. The flooded roads were finally accessible to be blocked off by the police, and the roads that were deemed clear were still made hazardous by abandoned cars and trash. I remember seeing for the first time the neighbor yards full of sentiments and belongings now deemed trash at the end of their driveways: couches, beds, drawers and dressers that once had funny knickknacks and grandma’s jewelry on top of them. 

The soft crunch of my mother’s eyebrows and the warmth of her hug as her fingers creaked tightly around my ribcage was the only home left to remember. She asked me to help her find my childhood in low boxes and dressers and to chunk it by the road. “What’s important,” I asked. I soon found out that everything was important, and so was nothing at all. The old phone cases, the shoes, the board games all had as many vivid stories of home as I did. At the same time the ruined notes, the waterboarded electronics, the plastic toys that I could not remember playing with meant nothing to me. 

I remember looking at a book of pictures that my mom laid out. They were dying, for the water had given the ink a timeline. Soon all the precious colors of my mother, and my father, and my relatives I can’t keep track of kept washing down off the canvas. I picked some up, spending time with some of the memories before their fading away. The last thing I remember was the ink on my fingers; the ink holding on to the creases of my fingerprints for their life, for the immortality I was not able to give them.

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A párnaember (the pillowman)  poster

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The Pillowman: Katurian's first speech [For James]

KATURIAN: I mean, I agree. You read all these things, these “stories”, supposedly, “The police are all this,” “The government is all this.” All this political…what would you call ‘em? “The government should be doing this”. Please. Fuck off. You know what I say? I say if you’ve got a political axe to grind, if you’ve got a political what-do-ya-call-it, go write a fucking essay, I will know where I stand. I say keep your left-wing this, keep you right-wing that and tell me a fucking story! You know? A great man once said “The first duty of a storyteller is to tell a story,” and I believe in that wholeheartedly. “The first duty of a storyteller is to tell a story.” Or was it “The only duty of a storyteller is to tell a story.” I can’t remember, but anyway, that’s what I do, I tell stories, no axe to grind, no anything to grind. No social anything whatsoever. And that’s why, I can’t see, if that’s why you’ve brought me here, I can’t see what the reason would be, unless something political came in by accident, or something that seemed political came in, in which case show me where it is. Show me where the bastard is. I’ll take is straight out. Fucking burn it. You know?        Pause. Tupolski stares straight at him. You know what I mean?

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It isn’t about being or not being dead. It’s about what you leave behind.

The Pillowman, Katurian  (via newtothenow)

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David Tennant in a production of Pillowman. I would give my life, my soul, my everything to have seen this play in person. I just wish there was some way to watch all David’s plays without going to some theater special archive. He is such a great stage performer it is like watching pure art. Plus seeing the pics of this play, is like umph bloody and tortured David Tennant, yes please. 

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“If you’re super good looking and charismatic and you like playing the same character every time, good luck to you — you’ll make squillions of dollars.“

"The interest I have in being an actor, though, is adapting your energy to play all sorts of different characters. If I’d done a shitty movie maybe I’d have a Maserati. But I’d be sitting across from you, biting my tongue all f***ing day going, ‘I f***ing hate myself for this shit.’”

–  Joel Edgerton on acting and Hollywood