#howardbarker

[ontherockstheatre-blog]

Dakota and her Father, Richard, on the cover of The Entertainer, March 1987. Have a safe Fathers Day, from all of us here at OTR. #howardbarker #canada (at Brooklyn, New York) https://www.instagram.com/p/Byx1FbepCWh/?igshid=ahz377800jtm

[kamranrais]

Thoroughly disappointed to sit through this play set in ancient China performed by an all-white cast. This is Yellowface in its truest form within the Arts and no amount of artistic freedom should allow you overlook the talent of East Asian actors in the UK. The Arts have a commitment to diversity and in this case irrespective of the location not playing any significance in the narrative or whether the themes were 'traditionally English'. I felt like I'd betrayed my values attending this play but have learned a great lesson as a result - As stupid as this makes me sound, this play has taught me to read the synopses and reviews in much more detail before attending 😑. . . . . . #theatre #play #fringe #fringetheatre #theprintroom #nottinghill #london #westlondon #drama #inthedepthsofdeadlove #howardbarker #howardbarkerplay #yellowface #racism #sowhite #arts #notokay #diversity #ethnicminority #timeoutlondon #equality #badcasting #casting #toowhite #whiteprivilege #missedopportinity #whatsonstage (at The Print Room)

[frontmezzjunkies]

PTP/NYC's Pity In History: Funny Fanaticism In War Against Art and Property

#frontmezzjunkies reviews: #HowardBarker's #PityInHistory @ptpnyc

Christopher Marshall (Croop) and the ensemble of soldiers. Photo: Stan Barouh.

Pity in History: Funny Fanaticism In War Against Art and Property By Ross Have you ever wandered into a majestic ornate house of worship in some foreign city (I’m a bit of an atheist church-seeker on holiday) and wondered how this came to be. Where did all this money come from to build this ‘temple’ to someone’s God?…

[striv]

#theater #kodra #thessaloniki #und by #HowardBarker Oberon art group

[analdelraey]

part two scene one

We fuck the day to death. And suffocate the night with tossing. Time stands still, she says so. Rolls back, even. As for the bed, it's our whole territory, the footboard and the headboard are the horizons of our estate, rank with the flood of flesh. Oh, beautiful odour of the utter fuck! And come? No, never come, for that's to end it. Clerks come, and butchers prior to a good night's kipping, farmers with their eight strokes, who's not heard their mechanistic butting? I know, was I not a clerk myself, and salesman? Oh, the bars and barmaids of the provinces, dead minds spewing the dead opinion, dead eyes on the dying bra strap slipping fuck all that watery desire no woman under forty is worth entering.