Friday, February 11, 2005

Very sad today.

We'll be pouring out our forties on the curbside this weekend in tribute to one of the titans of theatre, Arthur Miller. I shouldn't need to elaborate on his greatness. Crucible. A View From the Bridge. Death of a Salesman. My personal fave: Playing For Time. That shit just slays. He's from a period of playwrights where the cup just ran over with fantastic writers for the stage--folks that have stood the test of time precisely because their skills were that large and their vision was that universal. We're talking Odets, Inge, Saroyan, Williams, O'Neill. And Miller was larger than 'em all. Changed the way we thought about tragedy. Left a knee deep footprint in the culture. Forgot more than you and I will ever know. Left it all out there on the field. And he took shit from no one. The last of the gang to die. Respect.

No comments: