We went to a preview of the Foundry Theater’s interpretation of Bertolt Brecht’s Good Person of Szechwan last night at the Public Theater at Astor Place in New York, and it BLEW OUR LITTLE MINDS. And it blew our hearts wide open. Taylor Mac is a lightening bolt, the set is painfully charming and the music is impeccable. And of course the (mixed) message tugs, tugs, tugs at the most distracting threads of what it means to be good. If you’re in town during its run, don’t miss it — the show ends November 24. You can get all the info you need for tickets here.



Photos by Carol Rosegg

We went to a preview of the Foundry Theater’s interpretation of Bertolt Brecht’s Good Person of Szechwan last night at the Public Theater at Astor Place in New York, and it BLEW OUR LITTLE MINDS. And it blew our hearts wide open. Taylor Mac is a lightening bolt, the set is painfully charming and the music is impeccable. And of course the (mixed) message tugs, tugs, tugs at the most distracting threads of what it means to be good. If you’re in town during its run, don’t miss it — the show ends November 24. You can get all the info you need for tickets here.

Photos by Carol Rosegg


…there exist these opulent gardens
With flowers as large as trees, wilting, of course,
Very quickly, if they are not watered with very expensive water. And fruit markets
With great leaps of fruit, which nonetheless
Possess neither scent nor taste. And endless trains of autos,
Lighter than their own shadows, swifter than
Foolish thoughts, shimmering vehicles, in which
Rosy people, coming from nowhere, go nowhere.

Excerpted from Bertolt Brecht’s Contemplating Hell, featured on Literary LA.

…there exist these opulent gardens

With flowers as large as trees, wilting, of course,

Very quickly, if they are not watered with very expensive water. And fruit markets

With great leaps of fruit, which nonetheless

Possess neither scent nor taste. And endless trains of autos,

Lighter than their own shadows, swifter than

Foolish thoughts, shimmering vehicles, in which

Rosy people, coming from nowhere, go nowhere.

Excerpted from Bertolt Brecht’s Contemplating Hell, featured on Literary LA.


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