Word: brustein
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...their public relations needs. (If there were no lung cancer or emphysema, the arts would get much less.) Increasingly, these needs are defined as social rather than artistic. Hence the shift, in private philanthropy, to race- and gender-based programs, meant to make art what theatrical director Robert Brustein calls "a conduit for social justice" rather than art as art. As the newsletter Corporate Philanthropy Report recently noted, "We no longer 'support' the arts. We use the arts in innovative ways to support the social causes chosen by our company...
Professor of English Robert S. Brustein, the founder and director of the American Repertory Theater who teaches lecture courses on dramatic writing, often appears in The New Republic...
...When I was here there was nothing in the arts," Lemmon said. "If you had told any of us that did care about acting, writing, directing, film, painting or whatever at that time, that Bobby Brustein and Loeb ,Theatre were going to be here one day, we wouldhave said, 'You're crazy, not here, not at thisplace, because they don't care. They are notinterested.' It was totally different than it istoday as far as attitude and any concentration inthe arts, creative or interpretive...
...hysterical. Strutting across the stage with an obnoxious yellow suit and a mouth you wouldn't want to take home to Mother, Murray, "a demon with heart palpitations," is cheesiness at its best. LeBow manages to perfectly capture the air and nature of the typical Kutscher's comic. Brustein's script walks an extremely fine line between the deliciously kitchy and the horribly cliched, resting precariously in the hands of its cast, and requiring a very delicate touch. Where LeBow triumphs, others don't fare quite as well...
...heart. Utterly un-PC, and often grating, it makes fun of everyone from devout Christians to budding feminists. While the script is at times offensive and the acting inconsistant, the play is visually stunning, and, for that reason alone may be worth a short two hour venture into Brustein's own Hell...