"[The actress] did such an amazing job of conveying my feelings of anger and betrayal," a tearful Sheehan said after the play.
१२ डिसेंबर, २००५
The Nobel laureate's play about Cindy Sheehan.
Dario Fo pastes some of Sheehan's letters together into a one-woman show that's playing in London.
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Well if somebody wants to go see a play consisting of snippets of press release letters written by either Sheehan or some peace committee, I guess they are welcome to it.
I would not call it art though.
Aren't Cindy's 15 minutes up yet?
Don't know about you, but I'd rather have tickets to see Chita Rivera on Broadway still taking names and kicking ass at 72.
Don't know about you, but I'd rather have tickets to see Chita Rivera on Broadway still taking names and kicking ass at 72.
Maybe Chita could do the Sheehan play and you could have it all! I can see it now "America has a new sweetheart...Cindy! Singing, dancing like you've never seen her before!"
By whom does she feel betrayed? By her son, who ignored her pacifism to enlist in the Army (behind her back, according to Wikipedia), who re-enlisted knowing he would be sent to Iraq, and who volunteered for the mission on which he was killed? Casey Sheehan should be lauded for his courage. His mother, on the other hand, is determined to abuse his memory for her own political goals.
This woman is in minute 26 of her fifteen minutes.
The art and music and literature worlds in the west don't know how to do anything but question authority and the status quo. Brave rebellion is all that matters. I don't know if there's a way out of the quandary.
I think I'm going to market myself as a tearful apostate from the left who now has repented. I'll chain myself to my own house in protest of myself, and refuse to eat until I apologize to me. I'll make millions.
In one meaningless piece of art, Fo and Sheehan both jump the shark.
I heard Fo's wife is fabulous, however.
Do you think any of these people willing to squander their artistic credibility in the name of the cheapest political ploys will ever look back and feel embarrassed or ashamed for what they did? I certainly look back at some of my politics (though it never, happily, crept into my art to any large degree, except when I was in college) and feel embarrassed at my earlier shallowness.
That said, I can't say I have much respect for the Nobel prize in literature anymore, after Pinter won based (in my opinion) mostly on his extreme anti-Americanism.
This sort of reminds me of the recent play in London (which seems to becoming the world capital of bad political art) that was about Rachel Corrie, another unappealing heroine who, unlike metaphorically martyred Cindy, was actually "martyred".
Hee hee. Good gimmick.
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