Now under new leadership, the 14th iteration of this developmental festival again offered room, time, and shared energy to a crop of writers.
It took the worst news and deepest doubts of my life to lead me to my voice and my subject: exploring Black queer love.
In a Roundabout revival of the nearly 40-year-old play, it holds up as a withering portrait of the myths and traps of American masculinity.
Audiences are eager to laugh at everything from pratfalls to political commentary, and these days they’re doing it everywhere but at the theatre.
It wasn’t quite the season of our discontent, but this year’s January festivals felt a bit less binge-able than usual, despite the high points.
What am I learning while doing time, apart from mopping the gym? I’m getting to know people in transition.
New York’s annual experimental theatre sampler boasts plenty of chills and frills, but the real attraction is carefully crafted mayhem.
To honor the million-plus Black Africans who died in World War I, the South African artist uses opera, theatre, dance, video, and a dose of Dada.
A bio sums up Rodgers & Hammerstein’s achievement, and Andrew Lloyd Webber’s memoir is surprisingly lively.
You can’t just dip into the best, most compulsively readable book ever written about the art and sweat of making theatre (though you may skip a few parts).