The story of The Living Theatre is also the story of the emergence of a New York avant-garde in the 1950s and the resulting counterculture of the 1960s. The company was a kind of theatrical tribe, creating and staging plays collectively, living communally, and cultivating an atmosphere of sexual openness and adventure. And what a cast of characters passes through these pages: Tennessee Williams, Frank O'Hara, Anais Nin, James Agee, Allen Ginsberg and the Beats, Jackson Pollock and the Abstract Expressionists, Dorothy Day, John Ashbery, Peggy Guggenheim, Merce Cunningham, John Cage, Alan Hovhaness, and Maya Deren, among many others. Tytell has captured the mood and the artistic and political challenges of one of the most dynamic eras in American cultural history, and The Living Theatre should be read by everyone who shares a passion for the arts and knows the sacrifices that passion, at times, demands.

This anthology of plays includes introductory sections which acquaint readers with the process of reading a playscript. There are also notes which provide background on both the play and playwright.

Milwaukees live theater scene is the sum of several exciting parts. For many, Milwaukee live theater means world-class productions done by resident actors at one of the nations leading regional theaters. For others, it has been defined by the machinations of a respected experimental theater troupe that traveled throughout Europe in the 1980s and was once honored with an Obie Award. There was a time when Milwaukee live theater meant a big top arena where some of the biggest stars of American musical theater frolicked and played for local audiences. Audiences in Milwaukee have enjoyed the classics, new plays, and contemporary hits performed by never-say-die producers who boast personalities larger than the stages their companies play upon. The Milwaukee theater style is not fussy or overblown. It is informed by a thrilling past, buoyant future, unsurpassed community support, and unfailing devotion to solid midwestern work ethics channeled into artistic innovation. Simply put, Milwaukees live theater scene is the best-kept artistic secret in the United States.

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints adopted the vocal and theatrical traditions of American musical theater as important theological tenets. As Church membership grew, leaders saw how the genre could help define the faith and wove musical theater into many aspects of Mormon life. Jake Johnson merges the study of belonging in America with scholarship on voice and popular music to explore the surprising yet profound link between two quintessentially American institutions. Throughout the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, Mormons gravitated toward musicals as a common platform for transmitting political and theological ideas. Johnson sees Mormons using musical theater as a medium for theology of voice--a religious practice that suggests how vicariously voicing another person can bring one closer to godliness. This sounding, Johnson suggests, created new opportunities for living. Voice and the musical theater tradition provided a site for Mormons to negotiate their way into middle-class respectability. At the same time, musical theater became a unique expressive tool of Mormon culture.

Scripts, Photos, Director's Notes, Musical Scores, Set Designs and More, From a Remarkably Fertile Period in the Half-Century-Long History of the Most Important Radical Theatre Ensemble in American (Or World) History. Book jacket.

Artistic vanguards plot new aesthetic movements, print controversial magazines, hold provocative art shows, and stage experimental theatrical and musical performances. These revolutionaries have often helped create America's countercultural movements, from the early romantics and bohemians to the beatniks and hippies. This work looks at how experimental art and the avant-garde artists' lifestyles have influenced, and at times transformed, American culture since the mid-nineteenth century. The work will introduce readers to these artists and rebels, making a careful distinction between the worlds of the high modern artist (salons and galleries) and the bohemian.

I am Biberkopf, Rainer Werner Fassbinder declared, aligning himself with the protagonist of his widely seen television adaptation of Berlin Alexanderplatz. The statement provoked an unprecedented national debate about what constituted an acceptable German artist and who has the power to determine art. More than any recent German director, Fassbinder embodied this debate, and Jane Shattuc shows us how much this can tell us, not just about the man and his work, but also about the state of "culture" in Germany. It is fascinating in itself that Fassbinder, a highly controversial public f.