Now I don't really have time to write this blog, but something needs to be written right now and there's no one else on the staff to do it. So I'll keep it short:
This afternoon I watched PlayMakers Repertory Company's production of "Intimate Apparel" by Lynn Nottage, whom I recently heard described as the first great American playwright of the 21st Century. I cannot argue with that praise. The production itself was splendid, lovingly directed by Raelle Myrick-Hodges, with rich performances by student, guest and faculty alike, and with all aspects of production harmonizing. Particularly noteworthy was the costume design, which is sewn so intimately into the plot, and what a great vehicle for Bobbi Owen's 50th production with PlayMakers! But I just want to zoom in on the script:
The mere existence of the first act of this play restores my faith in the contemporary theatre, a faith that has been under assault as of late. The kindness and empathy that are shown one character to another, across divides--natural and man-made--stirred in me a certainty of the nobility of human aspiration across the ages. The second act is fine, following a well-made trajectory, with lovely moments of its own. But sitting in the theatre during that luxuriant Act One, my heart was about to burst for love of my kind.
Rasool Jahan and Benjamin Curns in "Intimate Apparel"