Some colleagues were chatting lately, yet again, about a Golden Age of American theater. This time, they meant the years just after World War II. People seem to enjoy believing in a magical time, usually just before they came along, when everything was splendid. Such talk makes me uneasy, because I have the terrible habit of accumulating theatrical facts. I know the aureous wonders of the late 1940s, but I also know its turkeys. No Golden Age... More >>>
Deflowered!: Our Voice cover man Taylor Macout of his botanic garbwins an Obie for his five-hour downtown extravaganza The Lilys Revenge.