Bill Marx
Albert Camus brings a bracing response to thinking about the worse that is missing in so many of our current dystopias.
Precious few independent online arts publications make it to double digits. Please give us the resources we need to persevere at an essential cultural task.
The script is symptomatic of the Trump era: a passionate rejection of the “politically correct” pushes warriors for “freedom,” as well as voices of radicalism, into morally despicable positions.
We need more serious, informed, and diverse voices evaluating and reporting on the arts at a time newspapers and magazines are cutting back and/or dumbing down their arts sections.
If the New York Times can’t make a reasonable case for the need for discrimination rather than salesmanship, we are in real trouble.
To my surprise, the auto union was written out of the picture from the start, as if dramatist Dominique Morisseau saw it as an embarrassment.
Steve is a satisfyingly genial comedy that brings up, but then darts quickly away from, serious issues.
The White Card‘s examination of white philanthropy and racism stays well within the comfort zone.
Shange’s nervy mix of wordplay and in-your-face didacticism — of resilience in the face of hardship — is very much the empowering thing.
Commentary: Once More, Back to the Little Shop of Horovitz
The strategic silences in the Boston Globe’s piece on the legacy of Israel Horovitz are disturbing.
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