There is an open mic and a fantasy slow dance to memories yet to occur, and a dance party that is pretty cute. I fall in love for exactly 15 minutes and it’s the best.
Michael + Patrick seem to be rebelling against the theater’s ruling class: kitchen sink dramas, heady idea plays, and — worst of all — amusement park attractions masquerading as Broadway musicals. And so Michael + Patrick have created something else, something other.
Tina Satter’s direction and Half Straddle’s pitch-perfect company establish and then maintain an unblinking focus that cuts through the dissipating fog and rewards the audience’s taut attention.
Considerations of how to communicate certain ideas, evoke abstract affects, and share stories explicitly offer possibilities for shared dialogue.
In Polylogues, the audience is watching me, and specifically me trying to listen. You’re watching that effort.
If fantasy has the power to instantiate, and maintain such debilitating power structures, could it also be the very force required to undo them?
Here, thoughts are freed from linearity or reasonable binds. There, processing systems allow the universe to expand and retract as an infinite sponge. Where bodies transmute from human familiars to alien exotica.
The Making of King Kong sets out to unpack the monstrosity of our current cultural moment via the monkey, simultaneously evoking a 1930s acting style (transatlantic accents abound) while complicating itself with very-much-now identity politic-infused dialogue.
the art that really connects to me is about the little tiny very specific pieces of life, always needing to retie your shoelace, the way your kid wipes his tears away with his palms, the way someone’s hair looked under a neon sign, the oddly beautiful mold encasing a dead bug at the bottom of a puddle on a mountain
I’ve found it terrifying at times, and surprised about how different it has felt for me. But it’s brought a deeper sort of pleasure, not least of which is that I am so proud of what we’re doing.
While the subject matter is dead serious, the style and aesthetic approach feels giddy, unafraid of big stupid choices when they’re appropriate.
We eventually spend less time on saddles and hats, and more time on trying to get inside that frictional feeling of being pressed into a hookup’s smelly, hairy crotch while he calls you “pretty.”