June 9, 2014 · FalseArt
Here’s the thing about Saul Bass’s little twenty-five minute head-fuck Why Man Creates from 1968: it’s the kind of film that makes you realize how completely we’ve commodified and neutered the whole goddamn concept of “being creative” in the decades since. We’re talking about a guy who made his bones designing title sequences, basically the […]
Continue Reading →
June 3, 2014 · FalseArt
There’s performance and then there’s this thing, this unholy exorcism Billie Whitelaw pulls off where she’s basically a human wound spitting words. Samuel Beckett’s Not I isn’t theatre in any way you’d recognize if you walked in cold. It’s a mouth. Just a fucking mouth hanging in the void, hemorrhaging language at like 200 words […]
Continue Reading →
May 17, 2014 · Speculation
Speculation: We Players Macbeth Rehearsal at Fort Point… MACBETH Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, Raze out the written troubles of the brain And with some sweet oblivious antidote Cleanse the stuff’d bosom of that perilous stuff Which weighs upon the heart? Doctor Therein the patient […]
Continue Reading →
May 15, 2014 · Speculation
I never said all actors are cattle, what I said was all actors should be treated like cattle. Alfred Hitchcock Here’s the thing about getting notes: it’s the moment where every actor or crews carefully constructed self mythology gets shredded like wet newspaper. I’m standing there, I’ve just done what I thought was brilliant work, […]
Continue Reading →
May 4, 2014 · Individualism
Look at these three women perched on the Fort Point rooftop in San Francisco, caught between acts of this site integrated Macbeth production, and what you’re seeing isn’t stagecraft. It’s the raw, unvarnished truth of what it means to be fully present in the middle of nowhere that matters. They’re witches, sure, but right now […]
Continue Reading →
May 3, 2014 · Collusion
So here’s what happened at Franconia Performance Salon #10, and going into this one was half an admission of cultural masochism, and the other half a desperate hope that someone, anyone, was going to do something that matters. Nick Berger’s documentary was the evening’s unexpected grace note. Beautiful, moving, words we throw around until they […]
Continue Reading →
May 2, 2014 · FalseArt
In 1995, William Utermohlen, American painter, living in London, doing his thing, gets the diagnosis that makes every other piece of bad news you’ve ever received look like a parking ticket. Alzheimer’s. The brain-eater. The self-thief. The thing that doesn’t just kill you, it dismantles you piece by piece, room by room, until the lights […]
Continue Reading →
