“If only everyone could afford therapy, the whole world would be healed,” announces Jonathan Groff, who plays an actor-caterer soon-to-be-father, and also plays a closeted homosexual in Craig Lucas’ The Singing Forest. The befuddling three-hour epic transports us from Y2K New York to Nazi-occupied Vienna and back again, but we’re going to need a little more than psychobabble and subtext to support grandiose claims and switches in time.
“If only everyone could afford therapy, the whole world would be healed,” announces Jonathan Groff, who plays an actor-caterer soon-to-be-father, and also plays a closeted homosexual in Craig Lucas’ The Singing Forest. The befuddling three-hour epic transports us from Y2K New York to Nazi-occupied Vienna and back again, but we’re going to need a little more than psychobabble and subtext to support grandiose claims and switches in time.
In conjunction with Spectator’s “Mind Matters” series, several A&E reporters explored the manner in which mental illness is depicted and examined in entertainment. Famous artists are not exempt from mental illness, and many have recently used their art as not only a means of catharsis, but also as a forum for discussing their illnesses. In the past few months alone, theater and television have addressed depression, bipolar disorder, suicide, ADHD, and the role mental health plays in our society.
In conjunction with Spectator’s “Mind Matters” series, several A&E reporters explored the manner in which mental illness is depicted and examined in entertainment. Famous artists are not exempt from mental illness, and many have recently used their art as not only a means of catharsis, but also as a forum for discussing their illnesses. In the past few months alone, theater and television have addressed depression, bipolar disorder, suicide, ADHD, and the role mental health plays in our society.
The story is a classic, but the distinction is in its telling.
With the use of a single whitewashed door on wheels, Paul Scott Goodman’s Rooms: A Rock Romance cleverly orchestrates each entrance and exit in the lives of two young Scots. The duo comes to New York in search of romance and rock ’n’ roll, and learns a little something about the transience of success and the permanence of love along the way.
The story is a classic, but the distinction is in its telling.
With the use of a single whitewashed door on wheels, Paul Scott Goodman’s Rooms: A Rock Romance cleverly orchestrates each entrance and exit in the lives of two young Scots. The duo comes to New York in search of romance and rock ’n’ roll, and learns a little something about the transience of success and the permanence of love along the way.
In the next 830 words, I face an innumerable challenge: holding your attention. My competition: your Blackberry, gchat, YouTube, something cute that just walked by, or maybe the circa ’88 photo of one Barnard alum, Cynthia Nixon. (I never said I was above name dropping.)
In the next 830 words, I face an innumerable challenge: holding your attention. My competition: your Blackberry, gchat, YouTube, something cute that just walked by, or maybe the circa ’88 photo of one Barnard alum, Cynthia Nixon. (I never said I was above name dropping.)
“Ogres are like onions,” proclaims Shrek, played by Brian d’Arcy James, “We both have layers.” Not unlike the big green hero, this same depth of character applies to Barnard alumna Jeanine Tesori, BC ’83, composer of the mega-musical that parallels the DreamWorks blockbuster.
“Ogres are like onions,” proclaims Shrek, played by Brian d’Arcy James, “We both have layers.” Not unlike the big green hero, this same depth of character applies to Barnard alumna Jeanine Tesori, BC ’83, composer of the mega-musical that parallels the DreamWorks blockbuster.
“What else does a man live behind besides his name and the stories he tells?” It’s a profound statement indeed for Primary Stages’ otherwise juvenile production, save for the last half hour.
“What else does a man live behind besides his name and the stories he tells?” It’s a profound statement indeed for Primary Stages’ otherwise juvenile production, save for the last half hour.
Covering her naked body with a loose dressing gown and letting her long, tight braid serpentine down her back, Mary-Louise Parker’s Hedda Gabler is at once a petulant child, a hedonistic bride, and a
Covering her naked body with a loose dressing gown and letting her long, tight braid serpentine down her back, Mary-Louise Parker’s Hedda Gabler is at once a petulant child, a hedonistic bride, and a
From highbrow art to tacky Christmases to ridiculous press releases, this year's outgoing A&E editors share their top 10 lists of 2008.
CORRECTION APPENDED
From highbrow art to tacky Christmases to ridiculous press releases, this year's outgoing A&E editors share their top 10 lists of 2008.
CORRECTION APPENDED
