Cameron Kelsall has some ideas for the new executive director.
R. Eric Thomas
A world-premiere commission filled with humor and heart considers the history and progress of gay rights in Philadelphia through the lens of a local podcast and the discovery of a revealing artifact.
A list of summer pre-season new work tailgating essentials to get us pumped for the 2016/16 theater season.
Even a brief encounter with Allen Radway reveals the intelligence, sympathy, and generosity of spirit evident in his theatrical work. We talk to him ahead of his newest, CCTCs THE TEMPEST.
R. Eric Thomas’s updated version of his 2012 hit provides a seamless synthesis of stand-up comedy and storytelling with the narrative structure of a one-act rom-com
Part of an ongoing international tour, FringeArts’ 13-performance engagement of White Rabbit, Red Rabbit follows the playwright’s rules: A script waits in a sealed envelope. ach night, a different actor steps on stage and opens the envelope, reading the script aloud for the first—and last—time.
Beautiful woman in row g  (Philadelphia): Simpatico presents craigslist themed MISSED CONNECTIONS AND OTHER CURIOSITIES
You can tell a lot about a city by looking through its craigslist pages. Jobs, apartments, M4W, rants: it’s all there. An exploration of wants and needs, longing and loneliness,…
When you hear the word “bilingual” what do you picture in your mind? International, business-y personnel? Or one of those lucky kids who happened to have parents who speak different languages? Or growing up in a different country? Well, I’m don’t fit in any of those scenarios, except being international, sure, but that’s about it. None of my family speaks English. I learned it in school because I had to, and was awful at it. I hated the subject throughout the years of forced education. But then life turns in a strange way, and somehow I ended up in this city with an unpronounceable name for almost a decade now. My every day life is in English. I ask myself over and over again: “What am I doing here?”
My mother tells a story about a time when I was young—3-years-old or 4—and I was trying desperately to get the swing I was seated on moving. My little legs kicked and kicked but I stayed motionless. After a minute or two, an adult came over and gave me a push and that’s all it took. I caught the momentum and I was swinging! As she tells it, I turned to the little boy on the swing next to mine and exclaimed in a giddy, high-pitched voice “I was getting so frustrated! Were you getting frustrated, too, Brooksie? I was getting so frustrated!”