Here’s a nifty gift-giving idea: a gift certificate good for admission at any of more than three dozen Washington area professional theaters. It’s a new program of the Helen Hayes Awards in association with The League of Washington Theatres.
Contemporary American Theater Festival 2008: 1
Neil LaBute breaks his pattern of writing for younger characters with Wrecks, a monologue for a businessman of late middle age, executed with skill by Kurt Zischke. We the audience are seated in the white box performance space of Shepherd University’s new Center for Contemporary Arts, which has been outfitted as a mortuary chapel, complete with (uncomfortable) sofas and armchairs for us. Edward Carr (Zischke) has stepped away from the line of mourners who have come to express their good wishes for the passing of Carr’s wife Mary Josephine. As he speaks to us, he reveals private thoughts that he will not, cannot express in public—a LaBute hallmark. LaBute’s final plot twist is less effective than his writing for Edward when he rages against the capricious forces of disease and death and our powerlessness against them.
The key element missing from Greg Kotis’s one-act Pig Farm is a musical score. Kotis, who collaborated with Mark Hollman on the satirical economics morality play Urinetown, the Musical, is here working solo in a close-by field. Tom and Tina run a pig farm along with their hired hand Tim. Times being hard, the farm is operating at overcapacity and Tom has resorted to extramural means to dispose of the porcine effluent. Trouble is, Teddy (Anderson Matthews, who can bluster and menace at the same time), a pistol-packing government inspector with a taste for the romantic agrarian life, has his own plans for Tom’s setup. What begins as kitchen sink drama slides into Guignolesque mayhem, with characters that won’t die (they keep popping up to sing reprises to their death arias) and a quantity of stage blood worthy of Martin McDonagh. This is a play that draws its comedy from our sardonic “yeah, right” reaction to a character’s claim that the Environmental Protection Agency is up to the task of guarding us against pollution by “fecal sludge.”
More representational is Stick Fly by Lydia R. Diamond, a lovely multithreaded piece that takes place at the Martha’s Vineyard summer house of the LeVays, an upper middle-class African-American family. Diamond explores themes of race, class, and most importantly, the expectations that a family places on its children to succeed—and in turn, that children place on their parents for recognition. Oldest son Flip has brought his girlfriend, who is white, home to meet the family, but he may have had an easier time of it than youngest son Kent, who has also brought his significant other to meet the folks. Multiply degreed Kent is still struggling to find his vocation, while his fiancée Taylor (the flexible Tijuana T. Ricks) brings more baggage to the home than just what will fit in the trunk. In a commonplace trope, Kent has an autobiographical novel that he is preparing for publication, and he needs to present the work to his family—but fortunately the play doesn’t bog down over this point. The place is presided over by the amiable but emotionally distant Dr. Joseph LeVay (the polished David Emerson Toney), a neurosurgeon; but the show-stealer is Joniece Abbott-Pratt as Cheryl, daughter of the housekeeper who has unfinished business with the LeVays.
The play is built from many short (sometimes simultaneous) scenes that take place in three separate rooms of the summer house. What’s most impressive technically is how director Liesl Tommy has worked with her lighting designer Colin K. Bills and the cast to isolate a character at the end of a scene with light, to allow the character to silently reflect on the scene that has just taken place, while the next scene is being prepared elsewhere. All this activity is taking place in the friendly confines of the Studio Theater’s black box. Indeed, at one point, as far as I can tell, a series of cues was built to follow a character’s movement through the house without movable lighting instruments.
- Contemporary American Theater Festival at Shepherd University, Shepherdstown, W.Va.
- Wrecks, by Neil LaBute, directed by Ed Herendeen
- Pig Farm, by Greg Kotis, directed by Ed Herendeen
- Stick Fly, by Lydia R. Diamond, directed by Liesl Tommy
Some definitions
- EXTIRPATE
- Verb applied only to heresies and corns.
- FACE
- The mirror of the soul. So some people must have very ugly souls.
- INSTRUMENT
- If it has been used to commit a crime, it is always “blunt,” unless it happens to be sharp.
- LIGHT
- Always say: “fiat lux” when a candle is lighted.
- TOYS
- Should always be educational.
—Gustave Flaubert, “The Dictionary of Received Ideas,” ed. and trans. by Robert Baldick and A.J. Krailsheimer
Not ready for prime time
The most peculiar thing about the new search engine at cuil.com is the random images that are presented next to returned search results. These images are presented on the first two results pages for my name, next to summaries of pages that belong to me.
Who is this guy?
I may be middle-aged, but I’m better preserved than this.
Or who, for the love of Michael J. Fox, is this guy?
It’s been a while since I’ve been called a horse’s whatsis.
Cash for Clunkers
Alan Blinder proposes an economic stimulus measure that’s good for the environment as well: subsidized repurchases of aging, inefficient cars and trucks, targeted to the low-income households that need the money the most.
…a fourth possible goal. By pulling millions of old cars off the road, Cash for Clunkers would stimulate the demand for new cars as people trade up. It need hardly be pointed out that our ailing auto industry, like our ailing economy, could use a shot in the arm right now. Scrapping two million or more clunkers a year should help.
Equus
BRUCE: In my life I’m not going to be afraid to blind the horses, Prudence.
PRUDENCE: You ought to become a veterinarian.
BRUCE (very offended): You’ve missed the metaphor.
PRUDENCE: I haven’t missed the metaphor. I made a joke.
BRUCE: You just totally missed the metaphor. I could never love someone who missed the metaphor.
—Christopher Durang, Beyond Therapy, I:i
Turn in your yogurt cups
Robert Siegel surveys the state of recycling programs in three suburban D.C. counties. He makes a good point about the “stickiness” of programs and what waste they accept—one that should be obvious, I suppose.
County Executive Isiah Leggett announced that Montgomery was going to begin accepting a wider range of plastics at the curb, including tubs and lids. Until recently, the county only accepted plastic bottles.
Montgomery County’s recycling center manager, Tom Kusterer, told me that until a few months ago, there was no market for those types of recycled plastics, but they’ve recently found clients who will buy the plastic to turn it into plastic lumber, plastic pallets and plastic flower pots.
Here’s a catch with recycling: Once a county or a city decides to accept, say, plastic tubs and lids, it’s pretty hard to tell people two years later—sorry there’s no more market for that stuff. So these decisions tend to be for keeps.
At the park: 20
Earlier this month we made our last field trip to monitor nest boxes. The raspberries were ripening, the Typha was eyeball-height, the dodder was showing its bright orange, and Indigo Buntings were singing in the mapletops.
It was a good year for the ducks, with an especially impressive increase in activity from the Wood Ducks. We fledged 97 woodies, a 14-year high. The hoodies did well, too, with 4 successful nests. The area along Lower Barnyard Run was the most intensively used (as it has been for several years), with double clutches in three of the boxes.
A few years ago I started recording our data with Cornell, in what is now the NestWatch program. This year they’ve opened up outside access to the data, at least a little bit. So here’s a map with our summary data.
We also discussed plans for maintenance and box relocation with Park staffer Dave Lawlor. Since construction for the wetland restoration project is now planned for summer, 2009, we’re not going to be doing much work before then—just replacement of a couple of worn-out boxes.
Some lists: 3
Inappropriate Muzak for the food court
- “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald,” by Gordon Lightfoot
- “O Fortuna,” the opening song of Carmina Burana, composed by Carl Orff
- “Always True To You (In My Fashion),” by Cole Porter
- (tie) “Synchronicity II”, by The Police; “In the Year 2525 (Exordium and Terminus),” by Zager and Evans
- “You’ve Got to Be Carefully Taught,” by Rodgers and Hammerstein
Inspired by a lite-jazz something I heard in Chick-Fil-A that sounded for a moment like #3.
From the Director
A Warning:
There will be no gunfire in this production.
There will be no smoking of cigarettes during this production.
No strobe light will be used.
There will be no intermission.
There will be no strong language.If you are looking for any of the above when attending the theatre, we are sorry to disappoint you. However, we do encourage you to remain.
What there WILL be before you on the stage is a celebration. It is a celebration of the very essence of what makes live theatre such an exciting and engaging art form. There will be two actors acting.
They will use no props. They will not change costumes. The set will not spin around them. They will use their considerable talents to create for you eight characters—both seen and unseen—as they relay one of the greatest ghost stories ever told.
Have I seduced you? Well. God be with you.
—Kathy Feininger, director’s notes to Round House Theatre’s production of The Turn of the Screw, January 1999
And yet… I must also note that this production was excellently, if minimally, designed, by a team of established talents in the D.C. theater community: Elizabeth Jenkins McFadden (scenic), Rosemary Pardee (costume), Ayun Fedorcha (lighting), and Tom McCarthy (sound).
Keycap casserole
Virginia Heffernan worries at the problem of how to quote message board posts.
Too much time on my hands

Via Steamboats Are Ruining Everything, the above image is a word cloud assembled by Wordle from the content of the last two-plus years of posts made to this blog—more precisely the 300 most common words, net of noisewords like and and the. Most of the work went into stripping all the markup from the posts, starting from a WordPress backup.
Short bits of string: 7
After much virtual knuckle-scraping, I have managed to mount the folders from a networked hard drive running Samba from my Windows XP laptop.
Some links: 26/a
The Post reprinted my complete plug for Huntley Meadows Park in the background material for its Fairfax County Community Handbook.
Some lists: 2
Leta (via Lori) turned up a Top 10 list of saints incorruptible.