#Our Class

[frontmezzjunkies]

Arlekin Players' Unpacks History and Violence Lesson by Lesson in the Compelling "Our Class"

#frontmezzjunkies reviews: #ArlekinPlayersTheatre's #OurClass @classicstage written by #TadeuszSlobodzianee adapted by #NormanAllen directed by #IgorGolyak w/ #GusBirney #AndreyBurkovskiy #JoseEspinosa #TessGoldwyn #WillManning #StephenOchsner #Alexandra

The Cast of OUR CLASS. Photo by Jeremy Daniel. The Off-Broadway Theatre Review: Arlekin Players Theatre’s Our Class at Classic Stage Company By Ross The schooling begins with some singing, with the cast of Our Class seated in a row on a pretty dark barren set. There is unity and comradery in those first few scenes, of classmates loving and caring for one another, even with small hints of…

[droughtofapathy]

"Welcome to the Theatre": Diary of a Broadway Baby

Our Class

September 15, 2024 | Off-Broadway | Classic Stage Company | Matinee | Play | Original | 2H 50M

A harrowing play about Polish classmates-turned-enemies during WWII. The story begins with ten children, half Polish and half Jewish, playing together at school and goes through the rest of their fraught, violent lives. And I think ultimately this story would have been better served as a novel. Though the stage design is minimal chalkboard and projection, the direction is too busy and unnecessary and detracts from the story. The play begins like it's a reading or workshop, and melds into an exposition-heavy ensemble production.

It's difficult to critique plays of this subject matter. I am not here to argue that we don't need plays about Jewish stories during the 1940s, but I have seen so many these last few years alone and each one seems to delve deeper into an almost torture-porn-esque tone. This particular story has multiple depictions of sexual assault, one of which is a weirdly romanticized gang rape, so that was... The play as a whole has a valuable and intriguing concept and storyline, but I didn't care for this execution. At least ten audience members left after intermission. It's a long show that has its moments, but three hours of increasingly upsetting and over-directed material overstays its welcome. The opening is especially rough and overdrawn, and I could easily see half an hour or more shaved off this production without damaging the integrity of the story.

Verdict: Well...I'm Glad I Saw It

A Note on Ratings

[pinkravat-art]

"breakfast" a tma s5 animation thing

audio on:333

dawg can't even fry me an egg in this eyeconomy

[VD: A Magnus Archives animation done in orange and teal titled "Pusryčiai" (meaning: "breakfast"). Mellow music plays as Martin cracks two eggs into a frying pan. He turns away to throw the shells while the pan sizzles, and when he returns with a spatula, a "boom" sound effect plays as Martin recoils with comic disgust.

The egg yolks have been replaced by human eyeballs. Martin stares at them for a moment. He then pokes at the egg with the spatula, producing a squelching sound, and one of the eyes blinks with another gross wet sound. Martin goes from disgusted to comically sad and disappointed, and he fades away before the setting does. The video ends on the words "darė Skaistė" (meaning: made by Skaistė) and a quick shot of an eyeball. End VD]

ty @princess-of-purple-prose for the description, i edited it a bit too.

[damani247]

Great night out at @bamfisher in #Brooklyn as @lekoolchampagne sponsored the opening night #celebration of #ourclass. Playing until Feb 4th 2024.

[officiallekoolchampagne]

Opening night of the play #ourclass drew a packed house at @bam (Brooklyn Academy of Music’s Fisher Theater) and we were thrilled to support the director, cast and crew by being the #champagne sponsor in #celebration for the night!!🥂

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

[miauiz]

[bacchuschucklefuck]

class swap design masterpost for convenience (from top to bottom: bard!riz, cleric!gorgug, sorcerer!kristen, barbarian!fig, artificer!adaine, and rogue!fabian)

[temeyes]

id picture (gone wrong)

[frontmezzjunkies]

MART Foundation presents Arlekin in Residence at Off-Broadway's Classic Stage Company with Two Productions

#frontmezzjunkies reports: #MARTFoundation is presenting #ArlekinInResidence at #OffBroadway's #ClassicStageCompany with two productions: #OurClass - the acclaimed hit & #TheMerchantOfVenice - a bold new adaptation director: #IgorGolyak @classicstage

Richard Topol in Our Class. Photo: Pavel Antonov. Our Class – The acclaimed Off-Broadway hit & The Merchant of Venice – A bold new adaptation transfers to Off-Broadway’s Classic Stage Company. After its sold-out run at Brooklyn Academy of Music in winter 2024, the off-Broadway production Our Class, by Polish playwright Tadeusz Slobodzianek, and helmed by Ukrainian-born, Jewish director Igor…

[ryllen]

love is a compilation of coincidences

... and chances u create urself

[fellas-is-it]

got tired of all depressing and hating yourself for being aro vibes on legit any other platform besides tumblr (looking at you tictac app) so wanted to listen to positive aromantic playlists and legit could NOT FIND ANY??????

And the ones that were vaguely positive were made for aroace ppl. Which is great! But im not ace!!! So WHERE'S MY POSITIVE AROALLO REP?!?!?!

Anyways i solved this hyperspecific problem myself and made a POSITIVE AROALLO playlist:

Larger image of the playlist cover i made

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

hope you feel better soon!

I am riddled with ailments, but I stay silly!

[wanderlust-in-my-soul]

Random loving acts of service (Part 3/?)

A Breeze Of Love

Hidden Agenda

Unknown

Egoist

Tokyo in April is...

Love Class 2

Our Skyy 2

Cooking Crush

My Personal Weatherman

To My Star

Favorite acts-of-service as part of my favorite bl-tropes-collection in no particular order.

[inkskinned]

for a while i lived in an old house; the kind u.s americans don't often get to live in - living in a really old house here is super expensive. i found out right before i moved out that the house was actually so old that it features in a poem by emily dickinson.

i liked that there were footprints in front of the sink, worn into the hardwood. there were handprints on some of the handrails. we'd find secret marks from other tenants, little hints someone else had lived and died there. and yeah, there was a lot wrong with the house. there are a lot of DIY skills you learn when you are a grad student that cannot afford to pay someone else to do-it-for-ya. i shared the house with 8 others. the house always had this noise to it. sometimes that noise was really fucking awful.

in the mornings though, the sun would slant in thick amber skiens through the windows, and i'd be the first one up. i'd shuffle around, get showered in this tub that was trying to exit through the floor, get my clothes on. i would usually creep around in the kitchen until it was time to start waking everyone else up - some of them required multiple rounds of polite hey man we gotta go knocks. and it felt... outside of time. a loud kind of quiet.

the ghosts of the house always felt like they were humming in a melody just out of reach. i know people say that the witching hour happens in the dark, but i always felt like it occurred somewhere around 6:45 in the morning. like - for literal centuries, somebody stood here and did the dishes. for literal centuries, somebody else has been looking out the window to this tree in our garden. for literal centuries, people have been stubbing their toes and cracking their backs and complaining about the weather. something about that was so... strangely lovely.

i have to be honest. i'm not a history aficionado. i know, i know; it's tragic of me. i usually respond to "this thing is super old" by being like, wow! cool! and moving on. but this house was the first time i felt like the past was standing there. like it was breathing. like someone else was drying their hands with me. playing chess on the sofa. adding honey to their tea.

i grew up in an old town. like, literally, a few miles off of walden pond (as in of the walden). (also, relatedly, don't swim in walden, it's so unbelievably dirty). but my family didn't have "old house" kind of money. we had a barely-standing house from the 70's. history existed kind of... parallel to me. you had to go somewhere to be in history. your school would pack you up on a bus and take you to some "ye olden times" place and you'd see how they used to make glass or whatever, and then you'd go home to your LEDs. most museums were small and closed before 5. you knew history was, like, somewhere, but the only thing that was open was the mcdonalds and the mall.

i remember one of my seventh grade history teachers telling us - some day you'll see how long we've been human for and that thing has been puzzling me. i know the scientific number, technically.

the house had these little scars of use. my floors didn't actually touch the walls; i had to fill them with a stopgap to stop the wind. other people had shoved rags and pieces of newspaper. i know i've lost rings and earring backs down some of the floorboards. i think the raccoons that lived in our basement probably have collected a small fortune over the years. i complain out loud to myself about how awful the stairs are (uneven, steep, evil, turning, hard to get down while holding anything) and know - someone else has said this exact same thing.

when i was packing up to leave and doing a final deep cleaning, i found a note carved in the furthest corner in the narrow cave of my closet. a child's scrawled name, a faded paint handprint, the scrangly numbers: 1857.

we've been human for a long time. way back before we can remember.