Sarah Ruhl

"I want, before you die, for you to feel at rest, to feel you’ve accomplished enough. To look around at this earth and say: It was good."
Just when the tedium of banal bickering seems endless, Ruhl, director Les Waters and Berkeley Rep's technical staff rescue
Not only is storytelling a genuine art form, it's a lot harder than one might think. It requires skill with vocabulary, phrasing and a deep appreciation of the musicality of one's language. It requires a sense of drama, of make believe and, above all else, a deeply personal kind of buy-in from one's audience.
Dear Elizabeth's subtitle is "a play in letters from Elizabeth Bishop to Robert Lowell and back again." It's clear from this phrasing that the epistolary play is about more than a series of letters between two poets.
Does dissatisfaction lead to introspection? Does introspection lead to dissatisfaction? Neither one of these issues is guaranteed to trigger the other.
Romance is all well and good as a source of artistic fodder. But the love of a father or mother for their children is presumed to be unconditional. What happens when a parent receives a stunning challenge regarding their child or delivers a startling ultimatum to their offspring? Complications quickly ensue.
Grant me patience, Lord, but hurry. I recited these words like a mantra on our recent snow day, the second school cancellation in a week. Blindsided by the blizzard, everyone trapped at home again, I steeled myself for the hours ahead.
Sarah Ruhl's beautiful new play The Oldest Boy at Lincoln Center is informed by a quiet release into Destiny. A mother faces
"Every three days, we will do an ultrasound to make sure there is still fetal movement," they said. "We cannot promise that in the intervening days the fetuses will not expire." (I believe at this point they changed their language from "babies" to "fetuses.")
Calling it The Vibrator Play teases you into thinking it's only about sex toys. It's not. Calling it In The Next Room better describes the story's more serious plot line.
If you have kids, I can't imagine a better place to take them on a Saturday morning.
A director's work is often tricky to review on the basis of one production -- in the case of a first work, it is often unclear what is a director's idea versus what is a stage direction in the script itself. It is also hard for people to separate actors' choices from a director's touch. But after a period of watching a director's work, you get it.
As Stage Kiss makes clear, art imitates life, and life imitates art. It ponders what is real: What happens on or off stage? Romance is wild and intoxicating; marriage, by contrast, is day in, day out, enduring.
When I had a chance to sit down and talk with her about her latest New York offering, Stage Kiss, currently playing at Playwrights Horizons, I headed to Brooklyn Heights for the opportunity to pick her brain.
Comparisons with the likes of Dear Liar, the sparkling dramatization of epistolary sparring between George Bernard Shaw and the actress Mrs. Patrick Campbell, or Love Letters, A. R. Gurney's amusing and tender fiction, are almost inevitable. As theater, Dear Elizabeth isn't in the same league.
If you crave art that elicits contemplation and incites a call to arms; art that can articulate the zeitgeist of the period in which it was made and continue its relevance to the present; and art made by a woman, you will gorge yourself on Sociales: Débora Arango Arrives Today at the Museum of Latin American Art.
The play In the Next Room, also known as the Vibrator Play, was a big hit a couple of years ago in New York, which surprised
I rarely go to Broadway these days, mostly because, as a graduate student, I cannot justify spending so much money on one ticket when I could be seeing several shows for the same price.
There's been a lot of boozing on the culture front with NY Craft Beer Week in full swing. On the theater front, the results have been less successful.
After seeing LATE: A Cowboy Song, an early Sarah Ruhl piece put up by the Piven Theatre Workshop, I had to clarify the job