“If you drink a tea brewed from the plastic shavings of his credit cards, then his fortunes will fall and yours will rise—but beware the price.” Zoe leaned forward and lowered her voice. “There is always a price. In this case, the carcinogenic effects of scalded plastic will exact that price.”
Read MoreDeath Comes Sideways to the MallWe knew we were in trouble when Macbeth insisted on seeing the witches first.
Read MoreMy Voice Is in My SwordHer son was mad. She had been certain of it since the cursed night when he turned the players’ play against her husband, killed old Polonius in her chamber, bespoke his father’s ghost, and at last set off for England.
Read MoreMad Hamlet’s Mother
There is an entire history in the stars. Light takes time to travel, to get from wherever the star is to wherever we can see it, here, on Earth. So when you think about it, when we see the stars, we are looking back in time. Everything those stars actually shone on has already happened. But just because a story already happened, that doesn’t mean it’s finished.
Read MoreThe Face of Heaven So FineThe noon show is the three-hour 1858 Booth production. The most fashionable historical war remains the First American Civil. Whenever FACfans discover that Lincoln’s assassin played Horatio, they simply must come and gawk at this titillating replica of their favorite villain playing no one’s favorite character.
Read MoreZebulon Vance Sings the Alphabet Songs of LoveClea Majora walked through the hot streets of Nova Ostia, her sandalled feet lightly treading on the wide, baked, paving stones. She bought a honey cake from a pastry stall and nibbled it as she walked, using the vine leaf wrapper to catch the crumbs.
Read MoreThe PatricianTrixie got out of her cherry-red godmobile and waved away the flitting cherubim waiting to bear her to her sedan chair. She wasn’t in the mood for a reverent chorus of hosannas, and the sedan chair desperately needed re-springing.
Read MoreTrixie and the Pandas of DreadOn the first day, she sits there wearing a black dress that is neither provocative nor sexless. Yet visitors who flock in from the cold January streets and ascend to the atrium on MoMA’s second floor are mesmerized, for the entire space is awash in a video installation depicting various interactions between machines and flesh.
Read MoreThe Performance ArtistHe may not come. Not all do. Some, deciding that a refusal to participate was a form of protest, merely sit near the entrance, waiting, assuming that the doors will open eventually, release them.
Read MoreLabyrinth