But then came the baby, and instead of the two of us watching homework the boys play handball in the park, she was pushing a stroller around. The deal was that she would do her schoolwork from home immediately following her daughters birth in the middle of junior year. Then her mother would take over, watching the baby during the day so Alli could go to school for senior year. With so much of Allis future suddenly so indelibly written, it occurred to me i should start working out my own. Up until she got pregnant neither Alli nor I thought much beyond the next blunt in the park. My parents wanted me to go to college, though my father often said he would have been fine with me going into the police academy or even the army. I wasnt sure about any of it—until I read. After the end-of-school bell that day i put the book back on the shelf, peeled my legs off the floor and rushed to catch the bus, excited to find my friends at the bus stop on Hillside avenue and tell them about what I had. Hillside is a dirty, bustling, major queens thoroughfare lined with check-cashing places, bodegas, and cheap Caribbean restaurants, in front of which windy rows of tired people wait to catch any of a dozen different bus lines.
Alli was not a person who smiled much, and seeing her crack up at my jokes felt as good to me as I hope it was for her. While other teenage best friends expressed their mutual love by writing their names in their notebooks with. Bff underneath, Allis way of showing me she cared was threatening to beat up a girl who tattled on me for smoking in the bathroom. She didnt tell me she was going to do it either. I came out of class to find Alli waiting, dead silent, arms crossed, angrily eyeing the girl down. Then, without a word to me, she stepped up to her and said, If you ever mess with my friend essay again, i will fuck you. The girl burst into tears and Alli hooked her arm under mine as we walked away. It was closest thing i ever got to an I love you. As different as we were, for three solid years we had hardly spent more than a few hours apart.
In my waistband, meanwhile, was a flask full of whiskey, which Id made by washing out a travel-size shampoo bottle a thousand times, then painting it gold. Whenever I drank from it I thought I was Janis Joplin reincarnate. Up until we became friends I loathed the popular girls and she dismissed people like me as crazy and weird. But we lived down the block from each other, we were both the daughters of Irish cops, and we lived for trouble. It surprised us both, but by high school we were best friends. I loved her brand of toughness, and she loved mine. I loved how smart she was, even if she didnt want anyone to know it, and she let her guard down around me in a way i hadnt seen her do before or since.
Essay on, king, lear, writing, help
We were plot the new Yorkers that never make it into the popular imaginings of our city: tough-ass Indian girls with thick queens accents, loud-mouthed Koreans eating buttered rolls and drinking Tropical Fantasy soda, prudish puerto ricans hunched under enormous backpacks, polish girls in doorknocker earrings. In our uniforms—plaid, pleated skirts and matching vests—we climbed off the Q43 bus or up the subway steps at 179th Street and Hillside avenue and headed up the hill to a school our dads could afford. For a tenth of the price of other private educational institutions, most New York catholic schools offer an education slightly better than your average public school, though certainly not as good as the better ones. But what they may lack in academics they make up for by way of discipline, and by greatly reducing your kids chances of being shot. By junior year Alli and I werent doing half bad as long as we were in school, but after school we still found trouble, smoking blunts in the park, sneaking out to clubs in the city. And getting pregnant—just a few months before i found.
King lear, alli became a teenage single resume mom. Alli was something like the love child of Barbie and Snoop Dogg, a thugged-out Irish girl with gel-curled blonde hair, brown lipstick, and freckles. Between her tough quiet stare, painted-on short shorts, baby tee, and crisp white reebok classics, in our 1990s New York hip-hop culture she was the epitome of the perfect pretty mean girl—by no means a true goneril, but she could have played the part. I, on the other hand, was undoubtedly the fool, a mischievous, frenetic ball of energy, hyped up on a daily breakfast of weed and Tropical Fruit Starburst. I wore my hair pixie short and my jeans loose, and I listened to classic rock—Allis opposite in every way. In the waistband of her skirt, rolled up to shorten its length to all of four inches, Alli had a beeper that went off incessantly with the stream of guys she was sleeping with but hardly talked about.
My brand was Marlboro menthol, as opposed to newport, that likely being the subconscious way queens white girls differentiated themselves from queens black girls—a thought I had much later in life. But on this day my caffeine addiction must have trumped my nicotine addiction, because i skipped the smoke, took a cup of coffee from the teachers lounge, and hid in an empty classroom to drink. Straightaway i pulled the book from the shelf and split it in half, a gesture that tells me now I was not looking to read it, but to perform an autopsy. Maybe there would be pictures, or some chivalric bit of nonsense to help me pass the time. But there on the page was line after line of language as beautiful as it was bizarre, and I was mesmerized.
I threw myself back, falling from my feet to my haunches, crossed my legs on the cold linoleum and turned to the beginning. I had never read a book on my own. But i kept on, in a fury, cutting one class after the next after the next, until I was done. Before there was Shakespeare, before there were cigarettes even, there was Alli. Bad behavior had cost her and me our first high school, and for sophomore year we were sent to an all-girls Catholic school, a beige brick gothic building perched atop a steep hill and surrounded by black iron fencing. The camelot of queens? Inside though, in lieu of King Arthurs, there were hardnosed nuns, and in lieu of Lancelots, hundreds of teenage queens girls. We were a volatile mix from all corners of the borough—bad girls from good neighborhoods, good girls from bad ones, and the ultra-religious from both—most of us miraculously getting along and all of us the better for being sequestered.
King, lear, essay, research Paper John keats
Indeed, there are quite a few parallels: the conflict with the children, share-out of property, possession of some estate, the trial by poverty in the past. Now Rotin has two purposes in life: to take revenge on the posterity and essay to stage a perfect King lear. Squatting behind a bookshelf with a stolen cup of coffee, i tilted my head like a dog at a shadow. Ear to shoulder, eyebrow raised, i mouthed the title of a book id never seen before. Must be some Knights of the round Table type-a-thing, essay i figured. Typically, when I cut classes, i was stealing away for a smoke, not Shakespeare. At sixteen, i was already a pack-a-day smoker.
The absence of seats underscores that report the audience is an alien element in the life-story of this man. All through the show the audience hears Rodins powerful recorded voice and his I-pad videos illustrate his life in the retired Actors Home. Yekaterina Anokhina, ekran i scena. This is a very intimate verbatim staging, a documentary show, a radio play it is hard to define its style or genre. Instead of the sets there is the installation of the things that belong to the protagonist. There is no acting on stage; only the videos illustrating the life of the real man. Instead of an actor reading the text there is the voice-over recounting the mans life story. Lear Is Rehearsing death is a study of the life of the particular person viktor. Rotin who lives in the retired Actors Home and who is convinced of his kinship with King lear.
for the unrealized ideas but they also constitute actualization of their memories. The staging employs interactive technologies that make for each member of the audience not only to witness the happenings on stage but also to directly take part in the performance. State centre of Modern Arts, lear Is Rehearsing death is viktor Rotins very explicit, maybe too explicit, self-revelation. How does it feel to stand on stage and confess that you love nobody, that your son wishes you die and your daughter is ferreting in your pockets for money? Being fully aware that it would be too hard for an actor to play an autobiographic mono performance (which would seem to be only logical georg Genoux uses installation with Rotin being one of the exhibits thereof. The action unfolds in the very compact space of the black room of the meyerhold Centre. There is no stage or traditional seats. The acting space is shaped by the four walls hung with photographs, pictures, merit certificates and other personal items of the actor.
The intricate interlacing of not an ordinary mans life and the Shakespearean myth are woven into the texture of the play. Things invented get mixed up with real happenings and the reality is rectified by the mythology. The real objects holding the memories of the body, videos from the retired actors home, the male characters monologues being half rational and half crazy eventually plunge the viewers into another persons private life integrated with one of the world theatres greatest stories. Kristina matvienko, i cant think of another production in the genre of verbatim that would penetrate so deep into the soul of a specific person. In the context of modern theatre this production looks exceptionally disturbing and somewhere half way between the beginning and the end the content starts to prevail over the form and with all the rejection of the character one cant help feeling deeply for him. After I way left I was crying for about 40 minutes such was mu excitement about the performance and about the fact that it was the last performance of beuys Theatre. The courage with which this elderly man having long developed his very personal notion of the beautiful firstly dared open himself so widely to the audience and secondly to allow the young director and playwright turn his work into a piece that seemed far from. Nina belenitskaya, playwright, the dominating motif of King lear is not so much the loss of connections between the history, the man and his milieu. This problem is the motif of social illusions and expectations, as well as of the moral ideals that all too often cannot be translated into reality.
Essay topic king lear
Meyerhold center and, joseph beuys theatre, moscow, director, georg Genoux. A play by lyubov mulmenko, video artist denis Klebleyev, performance guide alexei yershov. Actor - viktor Rotin, duration 1 h, 30 min, age restriction. The action of the mulmenko/Genoux production is set in an actors retirement home (this type of seniors complex was invented by great Russian actress Maria savina early last century). This documentary staging is focused on an old man who imagines himself King lear and tries to model his life upon the story of Shakespeares tragedy. The old man viktor possesses an i-pad with monologues from lear. Viktor has children whom he had anathematized a long time ago. He had divided his legacy unfairly. Although he has several flats he has chosen to live in the retirement home, one of the reasons being that there is an alarm button under his bed and he can press it any moment he feels he is in danger.