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The trio’s musical offerings were substantial and not the easiest things for an occasional group to pull together.
James Tate remains true to himself. These prose-poems are often stellar, harrowingly distinctive, and worthy of repeat visits.
In Arlene Shechet’s mischievous hands, the medium’s power as a shape shifter runs wild.
Perhaps there’s no way to reproduce the subtlety of this work in the theater today. Our stages are so materialistic, so technological.
For all of its sound and fury and smoke, the CSC’s version of King Lear is solid rather than surprising or exciting.
This astutely curated exhibit explores the presence of architecture in contemporary sculpture.
The relationship between a now-single mother and her bright, troubled daughter makes for a convincing, pertinent, and deeply funny play.
The play’s made up of domestic confrontations in which dramatist Suzanne Heathcote at times moves past moments of high tension at high speed.
Like Samuel Beckett, Enda Walsh does not ignore the tenderness that flourishes, often under the duress of absurdity.
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