outside light

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Simon Taylor

Simon Taylor

https://orcid.org/0009-0008-6687-4647

a riverhead marquee

ants mine the salt on my skin stretched out again on the riverbank my daughter takes the remains, my blood puppet, to bed, like a flopsy bunny ants seethe in the grass by the river, the river which sounds so nice it bubbles in pools in the mud-coloured rocks, running

theological heliotropy from Waiting for Snow in Havana: the sun; the sunlight; the light.

Gelassenheit. What a concept. The Meister came up with it. It’s what we should aim for, he taught. The state of letting go. Letting-go-ness. You even have to let go of God, he warned. “I pray God may rid me of God,” he said. Maybe a German can let

lighter pocket interview with Christopher Corner, {i.e. answers he was kind enough to provide to questions idly appended on to a request to join the company’s mailing-list} Administrator of The Wrestling School, London-based company set up to produce, per

I would like to join your mailing list. Done And am intrigued to know more. Why did the Arts Council give up on you? Part of general ACE attack on text led theatre and fear of what the increasingly inexperienced and generally intellectually lightweight officers cannot understand/appreciate. What are

anamnesis in the sambadrome

Paulo Barras, Viradouro’s creative director, justifies the float depicting the Holocaust proposed for this year’s Carnival in Rio, saying that in many European countries neo-Nazism is on the rise. The float, an “extremely serious” and “very respectful” work, according to Mr. Barras, is intended as a timely reminder.

Dr. K. presents a talk at City Art Rooms, part 1

– drawing by Franz Kafka One theme suggested for the installation that goes with study is the wall with the door that becomes a curtain which becomes a screen so that there is really no way out and yet the image is one of leaving. You might say you have to

STUDY FOR A PASSION working script for City Art Rooms, 18 March – 29 March 2008

no mind

A man who can’t be persuaded is a frightened man. – Albert Camus