Author Archive
John Miller Giltner on Jim Julien
Dear Jim, Or should I say Merry Crampus? And a very merry Crampus it was! Within the first 5 minutes of Krampus Gets Cramped, I felt transported to a world that combined Christmas, Halloween and an epic rock concert. My three favorite holidays! The mythological lore you masterfully stoked with your puppetry charmed me like the rock gods of yore. The movement of every shadow puppet dripping with juicy punk…
Tyler Rocio Ecoña on Jack McManus
ATTN: Jack McManus I’m writing to you today in regard to your nomination for the World’s Most Perfect Person. I want to preface that as a panelist judge, I cannot yet disclose your status in the competition until the show closes on Sept. 28th, but I wanted to give you my thoughts despite this. I was impressed with your character’s humor, their eloquence, and their disinhibition. Their ability to perform…
Chris Davis on Becky Bondurant
Dear Becky: I had the pleasure of seeing your show Penis Envy this past Friday at the Louis Bluver Theatre at the Drake. What first struck me was the set, a visual of all the presidents of the United States, some painted by you, and some by your children. It hearkened back to my own school classroom, I remember being a kid looking at all those old white men’s heads…
Fee Pelz-Sharpe on Courtney Taylor
Dear Courtney, “revelations from the first and last ever rehearsal of THEY SAY I DID SOMETHING BAD: an unauthorized taylor swift parody musical about the life of the unabomber ted kaczynski presented by the bridgebrook college drama club” won me over with the name alone. But after watching it, I loved it more than I could have guessed; in a way that can best be summed up by my immediate…
Xora Odelle on Britt Anderson
Dear Britt, I must confess that my knowledge of Greek mythology has withered since graduating high school, and that leading up to Arachne’s opening night, I mispronounced the title as “Are-uh-cane”. However, this did not hinder the instantaneous pull of your performance. Starting off the show with a thick southern accent filled to the brim with charm, you gently led us, a timid audience, to bleat and be your loyal…
Dan Kitrosser on PJ Witkowski
Dear PJ (aka Bambi), First of all, no one plays a drunk, nihilistic (dead?) deer like you. This past Sunday, I walked from my home in East Passyunk, South Philly, to Sawubona — which, thanks to Tanya Morgan, has become a vibrant hub for comedy and theater in the neighborhood. The space, like the rowhome I live in, has a narrowness and a warmth the moment you arrive. And as…
Britt Anderson on Rose Luardo
Rose, When I walked into the opening party for your exhibition, you screamed, “THIS IS AN AMAZING HUMAN!”, gave me a hug, introduced me to your two friends with a “You need to meet each other!”, and went to greet others coming through the door. After introductions, I turned to your friends: “So, how long have you two known Rose?” “We just met her 10 minutes ago. You?” “I met…
Becky Bondurant on Dan Kitrosser
Dear Karen Tenderness (and Dan), My name comes with cultural baggage. A radio hit in my middle-school era spawned frequent valley girl inflected commands for me to “look at her butt.” Though I eventually came to welcome the reminder to check my privilege, my name’s association with oblivious whiteness made me aware that our names don’t really belong to us. They are signs within culture. A fact no name in…
Jake Lucas on Susan Edsall
Hello Susan! I got to see your show Thursday; I sat in the back with my best friend, you probably heard us laughing. I got absolutely drenched in rain seconds before getting to the venue! I’m meticulous about the weather every morning, and knew it would be raining around the show’s start, but for some reason, I went off to work without an umbrella, something I’m usually so careful to…
Susan Edsall on Noam Osband
Dear Noam, Thank you for your wildly funny and wholeheartedly optimistic story. I had no idea what to expect when I walked into a yoga studio to see a show about, um, circumcision? I grew up in rural Montana. Let’s leave it at that. You had me in the palm of your hand when you came out of the gate like a grenade, launching into goofball, true stories–bags of cash?…
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