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“Weren’t you bored, just a little? All those words.”

Minor Critics

Last night, we saw F. Murray Abraham tear up the stage as Galileo in Brecht‘s worrying portrait of science and free expression stomped on by repressive political power and heterodoxy. With hanging globes, back photo projection, a tight, nimble cast, and a handful of props, the production expanded the modest space of the Classic Stage Company far out into the heavens and the furthest reaches of mathematical calculation, and collapsed it into the most intimate moments of a scared, bold man grappling with the conflicts between his ideas and his philosophical ambition and his corporal desires and human relationships. The Iconoclast and The Romantic were gripped. They sat on the edge of their seats, literally, leaning forward until I had to lay a gentle restraining hand on The Iconoclast’s shoulder to stop him from tipping forward into the next row in CSC’s tightly canted bleachers, as he hung spectre-like…

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Acerca de manonmona

MANON KUBLER. PERIODISTA , ESCRITORA EN RETIRADA. A LA SAGA DE UNA NUEVA CRONICA. PREPARO MIS BALAS. EXPULSO MIS FUEGOS. AFINO MIS LLAGAS. AVANZO. ME DEMORO. VUELVO A AVANZAR. BUSCO ESTOMAGOS QUE SUJETEN TOXICOS Y EXTREMOS. AQUI ESTOY, A LA SAGA, VIVIA Y SOBREVIVIDA PARA LA ALEGRIA DE POCOS, SALUD MANON

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