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]