Joann Green Breuer
If there ever was anyone to handle Hayim Nahman Bialik’s broad, impressive, and impressionistic craft with the acute passion, it is scholar and poet Peter Cole.
We learn a great deal about Hayim Nahman Bialik’s life in this biography. But the volume does not live up to its subtitle.
The effort to merge Deaf culture with the Book of Job becomes too much a burden for Craig Lucas’s family melodrama to bear.
You know we have come a long way when, just like everyone else, transsexuals can have their own mediocre musical.
Richard Nelson’s family members talk to each other, not to us. We are privileged to be permitted to listen in.
Abraham Karpinowitz offers a salutation of the heart to his beloved city of Vilna.
Perhaps the yuck factor of Night is a Room’s sexual proclivities elicits giggles as a cover for not knowing how or for whom to care.
In this book, personality trumps process, although The Eugene O’Neill’s Theater Center’s purpose is, at its source, process.
Theater is a public art. And yet, the irony here is that the most profound communication between individuals can be the least publicly communicable.
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