Theatre people love to talk about influence.  We debate who changed acting, who reinvented staging, who broke realism, who built modern drama.  Certain names come up again and again — Chekhov, Ibsen, Brecht, Beckett, Williams. But there is one play that quietly shaped enormous parts of twentieth-century theatre, and today it is almost never mentioned outside academic circles. [more}

When theatre historians use a phrase like “the night that changed American theatre,” they are usually pointing to March 31, 1943, the opening night of the musical Oklahoma! at the St. James Theatre. The show was written by Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II, and directed by Rouben Mamoulian. Choreography came from Agnes de Mille.

Intimacy coordinators are professionals who help stage and manage scenes involving physical intimacy — such as kissing, simulated sex, nudity, or other vulnerable physical interactions — in film, television, and theatre. Their role blends choreography, consent facilitation, safety oversight and storytelling collaboration. [more]

In theatre, laughter behaves less like a private emotion and more like a physical event moving through a room.  Directors and comedians sometimes speak of it almost the way a musician speaks of acoustics: something with timing, momentum, and transmission. A few forces are at work. [more]

There is a notable shift in how theatre companies — from community groups to professional organizations — are thinking about play readings (including staged readings) … but they are not exactly replacing full productions outright.  Instead, readings are becoming a bigger and more strategic part of how new work is developed, presented and funded. [more]

Not meaningless.  But absolutely … inflated. Here’s what happened. Once upon a time, a standing ovation meant: the audience was stunned; something transcendent just happened; you physically could not remain seated. Now? [more]

Ahhh, discounted tickets — the thing every theatre company needs and secretly resents at the same time. Let’s talk about how to handle them without tanking your revenue or your audience’s perception of value. [more]

If you’re asking as a playwright, the real question underneath is probably: Should I be writing for the black box? Here’s the honest answer: you should understand it.  But you shouldn’t let it shrink your imagination. [more]

Theatre sound design is where invisible magic lives.  It’s architecture made of air. Let’s break it down in a way that’s actually useful, not textbook-y. At its core, sound design in theatre is about three things: World-building – Where are we?  A subway platform?  A war zone?  A kitchen at 3am? Emotional framing – Is this romantic, ominous, absurd, tragic? Storytelling support – Underscore, transitions, sonic motifs, practical effects. [more]

Short answer?  No. Longer, messier, more honest answer: theatre isn’t dead — it’s just not centerstage in the culture the way it once was. Theatre used to be where ideas went to fight.  Now those fights break out everywhere else first: streaming, podcasts, stand-up, YouTube, TikTok.  The culture didn’t stop wanting stories; it just stopped waiting for a curtain to rise. [more]

Costume design is fundamental to theatre — not decorative, but narrative.  It operates on several levels at once, often before a single line is spoken. Costumes instantly communicate who a character is: class, profession, psychology, desires, contradictions. A frayed sleeve, an ill-fitting suit, or an overly pristine dress can reveal inner states that dialogue never names. They anchor the audience in period, place, or stylized reality. [more]

Both Neil LaBute and David Mamet are still working — but neither occupies the cultural center the way they once did, and for different reasons. Both men built careers on confrontation, cruelty and moral absolutism, mistaking provocation for profundity and abrasion for insight.  For a time, American theater rewarded this. [more]

Because “bad” and “successful” measure different things. A play can be technically clumsy — thin characters, obvious themes, awkward dialogue — and still succeed because it hits a nerve that craft alone doesn’t control. [more]

Trigger warning:  This post may piss you off. Theatre should make us uncomfortable.  That discomfort is not a flaw to be mitigated but the point: a live encounter with ideas, bodies and emotions we’d rather avoid.  Trigger warnings, when they pre-emptively sanitize experience, risk training audiences to manage their feelings instead of confronting them.  [more]

Yeah, it’s a real pendulum moment in new-play land: a lot of writers (and theaters) are clustering around ~70–90 minutes or swinging to three-hour epics — with less interest in the old “two acts + intermission = 2:15” default. [more]

Short answer: no.  An intermission is never necessary when writing a play.  It’s a choice, and often a practical one rather than an artistic requirement. Historically, intermissions existed for very concrete reasons.  Candles needed trimming, audiences needed to be refreshed, scenery had to be reset, and theaters were social spaces as much as artistic ones. [more]