
You can see more of Paco Pomet's unusual work here. Hat Tip to Demis
This drama needs no annotator or apologist if it’s acted with the naturalistic refinement — and accumulation of revelatory detail — found in this interpretation.
I had wondered if “Bridge” really needed another revival. New York saw a first-rate production only a dozen years ago, directed by Michael Mayer, with Anthony LaPaglia, Allison Janney and the young Brittany Murphy (who died at 32 last year). But this latest incarnation makes the case that certain plays, like certain operas, are rich enough to be revisited as often and as long as there are performers with strong, original voices and fresh insights.


What I find telling is how many reviews feel the need to compare Lear qualitatively to the great tragedy that inspired it. The inaptness of this tactic is astounding. Lear is not a deconstruction, parody or adaptation of any kind. It’s a new play in dialogue with the classic and our expectations of it (and that’s just in the first hour, really). Its heightened poetic language, compounded with a variety of other rhetorical modes, actually makes it dramaturgically closer to Shakespeare than 90 percent of playwriting out there, but we’ll let that pass. The real way to review it is in the context of Lee’s previous work and the last 20 or so years of stage experimentation.
While I did not feel significantly affected emotionally after the show, the evening appears more complex as I think about it more closely. I also perceived a fundamental question -- and a fundamental problem -- in exporting this work to non-American countries. The performance aims at undermining the audience's deeply ingrained prejudicial modes of seeing. Each of the four parts addresses discriminatory perceptions, of which no one can be free, and it is the necessary labor of a meaningful Sisyphus to point them out time and again. The problem with performing such a labor beyond the borders of one's culture is that perceptions of discriminatory perceptions are necessarily very different there.
Penned in 1941 but first performed in 1959 (after the author’s death), “Hughie” is the story of Erie Smith, a Broadway bum with a big mouth who hangs around a flea-pit hotel lamenting the disappearance of the titular desk clerk who was willing to listen to his drunken monologues. Its running time is only 45 to 50 minutes. So when Dennehy persuaded the Trinity Repertory Theatre in Providence, R.I., to produce the show in 2004, he suggested pairing with a Sean O’Casey comedy called “A Pound on Demand.” In that minor bit of O’Casey, a pair of Irish drunks try to stay sober long enough to get some money out of their post office account. It is, to say the least, a play that cashes in on Irish stereotypes. Director Robert Falls, Dennehy’s longtime collaborator, showed up to see it.
“He was appalled,” Dennehy says, grinning at the man seated next to him.
“I told Brian that doing O’Neill with that play only diminished ‘Hughie’,” Falls says. “Brian thought you couldn’t charge full prices for a play 45 minutes long. Sure you can. Audiences are delighted to see a 45 minute play. Plus they are getting to see you, Brian.”
Dennehy snorts.
So when “Hughie” showed up under Falls’ direction in the Owen Theatre at the Goodman in 2004, it was alone on the bill.

My friend Brad Kelly took in the show, I think. At least it wasn't too long, right?
These are just the plays that likely occupy the "new play slot" in a subscription series. (Except for Glass Menagerie, of course, which I would prefer to just bump down to #11 for argument's sake.) Companies will still splurge on a cast of 10 or 12 for, say, The Crucible--already downsized, of course. But remember that many theatres budget a season based on number of total AEA actors employed. So for every Crucible or Shakespeare you do, you have to balance that with a Proof. And it probably makes more sense in these calculations to splurge for the surefire popular favorite rather than on the new play no one's heard of. (In other words, if you want to do a big new play, like say Farnsworth Invention...no Shakespeare for you this season!)
This is a misleading conclusion, for a number of reasons. For starters, TCG's Top-10 lists exclude plays by Shakespeare because it's not a fair fight; he handily beats the other playwrights, living or dead, year in and year out. Also, more to the point, Teachout has compiled a list of the Top 10 most-produced shows over a decade, but the way he's worded this litany, it reads as if American theaters have produced "no" productions by these authors at all. "No history, in other words."
There's one other problem: By listing playwrights' names, Teachout exposes another flaw in his data-mining. A thorough list of "most-produced" playwrights over the last 10 years would paint a different picture. Conor McPherson, Sarah Ruhl, and August Wilson would probably be on the list, for starters; so, I daresay, would many of the writers Teachout lists above. Because while each year's Top 10 reflects that year's hottest plays while they're white-hot, it fails to register the hardy warhorses and Streetcars that don't crack the Top 10 but, over the aggregate of 10 years, are likely to outrun the temporary favorites. It also fails to account for authors, new and old, who are too prolific to rise to the top with just one defining play; maybe no single Chekhov or Williams play had as many productions as Wit or Doubt in the 2000s; but I'm willing to bet Teachout a lunch that Chekhov and Williams received more productions than did Margaret Edson or David Auburn.
For me, though, the really big surprise was the dog that didn't bark. Only one of the top 11 plays, "The Glass Menagerie," is a classic, and it was written in 1944. The others were all written between 1994 and 2006. And in addition to "The Glass Menagerie," only five classics by playwrights other than Shakespeare—"The Importance of Being Earnest," "Our Town," "Private Lives," "A Streetcar Named Desire" and "Tartuffe"—made it onto the longer list.
As for the celebrated playwrights of the past who didn't make the cut, the list is alarmingly long. No Samuel Beckett, no Bertolt Brecht, no Anton Chekhov, no Georges Feydeau, no Henrik Ibsen, no William Inge, no Eugène Ionesco, no Arthur Miller, no Clifford Odets, no Eugene O'Neill, no George Bernard Shaw, no Aristophanes or Euripides or Sophocles, no Rodgers and Hammerstein or Frank Loesser or Lerner and Loewe . . . no history, in other words.
Take this outrageous passage: “A playwright describes what he sees: ‘Every time I go to the Goodman Theatre, that audience is all over 60 and it's all white.'”
The Goodman audience could use more youth and racial diversity. No question. But that playwright is describing what he thinks he sees. Nothing is served by presenting such patently inaccurate and reductive anecdotes as fact (as distinct, say, from accurately surveying the Goodman's audience demographics). I've been to the Goodman many, many times. I've never sat in an audience all over 60 and all white. It is a stereotype.
If playwrights don't like audiences, they surely don't like critics, especially those with the audacity to clearly separate plays that they think their readers might enjoy from those that they think they will not. “Critics see their role as of consumer reporters giving thumbs up or thumbs down to something,” goes one complaint, “instead of thinking crucially about the strengths and weaknesses of a play, or the future of the particular writer, even in the face of imperfection.”
There is no mention that such imperfections may also be occurring in the face of a $50 (or more) ticket price. And three hours of your life. And — oh, never mind.
Q: What advice do you have for playwrights just starting out?
A: I think that young playwrights should spend more of their time working on the basics of playwriting--scene work, dialogue, character, action. I think they should try to hear the rhythms of language in their own idiom. I think that they shouldn't worry so much about being "unconventional." A friend of mine recently confessed that younger writers are being taught, in some programs, that anything "conventional" is not cool. I think that's catastrophic thinking. Too many young writers spend so much time trying to be post modern that they don't finally write about anything at all.
Elevator Repair Service eschews mission statements, mantras, and even employing certain theater-making methods from one show to the next.
“As soon as I begin to recognize and name anything that we’re doing, that becomes a thing to not do anymore,’’ says Collins.
Adds Shepherd, “You have to be real dedicated to the idea of not having a method. Because it means you’ve got to spend some unpleasant time not knowing what to do.’’
To maintain a fresh approach, says Collins, the troupe members keep trying to invent new and different experiments for themselves.
“Part of it is just a willingness to try a bunch of stuff that’s going to fail - and to get excited about those failures. As long as you allow the process enough time, and the people are familiar with each other, and there’s a kind of openness about the whole process, then it doesn’t matter if your first six ideas completely fail. They’re going to generate new ideas and point you in some worthwhile direction,’’ says Collins. “I hate to think what ‘Gatz’ would look like now if we had pursued some of our very first ideas for it, rather than allowing ourselves to discover what we were doing as we went along.’’
When it opened in the Eisenhower Theater in April, the musical may not have proved itself to be truly seminal, but it now had a moving core and evoked in more emotionally satisfying ways a turbulent, evolving nation. Thanks to Derek McLane's ingenious set, the 28-member orchestra and the voices of a cast nearly 40 strong, it looked and sounded terrific. And Washington responded: "Ragtime" was a virtual sellout for the Kennedy Center, prompting the highly unusual step for the institution of an extension of the musical's run. All told, it ran in the Eisenhower at 92 percent capacity for 34 performances.
Still, there were sales advantages for "Ragtime" at the Kennedy Center that could not be replicated on Broadway: the institution's subscribers. They purchased 30 percent of the musical's tickets, providing a solid foundation of revenue, according to center President Michael M. Kaiser. "Plus, we have a marketing reach in a much less culturally dense city," he said. "We have an ongoing relationship to an audience. Whereas on Broadway, every time you start from zero. You have to build your single-ticket sales."
In a city with far fewer options for big-scale musicals, "Ragtime" may have had an outsize impact. When it moved to New York, it not only faced more intense competition, it also had to find a niche in a theater world that has grown more and more dependent on tourists - a negligible theatergoing category in Washington