Criticultura em Portugal

Immersive theater, in which attendees wander around a space and have individualized experiences with actors, is all the rage. I attended a well-reviewed example of this on a chilly night in Brooklyn. Then She Fell was created by the Third Rail Project based on writings of Lewis Carroll. It opened last year in an abandoned hospital, and recently moved to an old Brooklyn church. Only 15 "audience" members are admitted each night, and there are 6-7 dancers and actors who perform the various 15 or so scenarios in different rooms and floors of the church. You are artfully guided around, sometimes alone, sometimes with others (6 at most), usually watching, but sometimes interacting (shadowing the actions of a mime through a "mirror", dealing cards e.g.). Nothing is terribly risky, though. I need to respond to this on two levels. First, the experience  was stimulating, fun, and new. It reminded me of a very professional version of the walk thru haunted houses a friend of

The Unrepeatable Moment, a set of six short plays by John Yearley presented by The Barrow Group, was a provocative evening of theater. The plays were not written as a set, but when packaged together, presented a touching panorama of companionship, love, and loneliness. Most settings were in New York or similar urban settings. The plays were 1-2 character affairs, and all the actors were good, some extraordinary. Most memorable was "Horrible Person that I am", a monologue (Tricia Alexandro) of a lonely urban woman stood up on her last date and reaching the limits of her loneliness (through a brash NY veneer). The finale "A Low Lying Fog" was also memorable, with convincing interactions among brothers about, life and an automobile accident. Turns out one of them is actually dead, and the "Ghost"-like scenario works really well without gimmickry. The small theater and fine, intense acting made me grateful to live in a theater mecca. The depth of acting talent

I saw the remarkable Mercury Fur  twice, since after one viewing I thought I missed some plot twists and dialogue, and because I wanted to sit closer to the violence. The play by Philip Ridley, an English pioneer in so-called "in yer face theater", defined on Wikipedia as  "Vulgar, shocking, and confrontational material on stage as a means of involving and affecting their audiences", does just that, and left me exhilarated. He uses numbing violence somewhat like Quentin Tarantino does, but without the smugness and with an effort to make serious points. The production was stunning, set in a old warehouse, and requiring audience members to climb through the set and assorted debris to get to their seats (some of which were old dubious stuffed chairs). The play begins in complete darkness which is penetrated effectively by the young cast members entering with flashlights. From here on, the play and production relentlessly and effectively communicate the vibe of being

I am a semiretired physician-educator who at long last has settled near Manhattan to enjoy theater, opera, and music.                                                                                                                                                                 I have substituted reading difficult novels for my science reading. In short, I now can thrive in the humanities largely deferred during a satisfying but busy medical career. I have been a singer, pianist, and conductor, and have strong opinions about artistic quality that I enjoy sharing with others.

After intending to do so for 30 years, I have finally climbed the musical mountain and experienced the Bayreuth Wagner Festival in Bavaria. This is sort of a shrine to operaphiles (and to some unrepentant Nazis) since Richard Wagner built the theater to his specifications in 1876 and it remains nearly unchanged. Only the operas of Wagner are performed here, and only for two months each summer. Why did it take me this long to attend? Well, like many religious rituals, there is no quick payoff. To attend, one needs to apply in writing (no internet, fax) yearly. After an average of 10 years waiting, your lottery number comes up. If you forget to reapply, your name goes to the back of the line. These wonderful Germans! After participating twice in in this masochistic rite, the most recent being 8 consecutive yearly applications, my religious rite was interrupted by a move to Florida which prevented receipt of the annual application. I used my higher salary and advancing years to justify p