Thursday, 17 April 2014

The Second Lamentation of Criticulous

In the third hour of the night, the policeman proclaimed: 'Less it, for he hath had enough.' Criticulous sat upon his bench and spat forth broken teeth from his mouth. The constable informed him that he oughst be more careful on the stairs in future.

Criticulous set up a great wailing and gnashing of his last teeth. For, as one who cries in the wilderness, his prophecies were received with no honour.

'Alas, I am bereft of my knowledge, since that beating has dislodged my memory of the difference between montage and collage, homage and imitation, bricolage and cut up.'

The constable rapped upon his cell door with the truncheon and answered. 'If you want some of this, keep it up, o prophet.'

'My mind is occluded, and I recall not the difference between the process of dramaturgy and the role of the dramaturg.'

The constable rapped upon his cell door with the truncheon and answered. 'If you want some of this, keep it up, o prophet.'

'I suffer in feat that there is no definition that now divides physical theatre and contemporary dance, especialy now there is Dance Theatre.'

The constable rapped upon his cell door with the truncheon and answered. 'If you want some of this, keep it up, o prophet.'

'I am left with only this knowledge: at the heart of any dramaturgical process, whether performed by dramaturg, director, choreographer, devising or improvising soloist or ensemble - must be a memory of the purpose of all performance (both in the general and specific event). Namely, to connect and communicate with a potential or concrete audience.'

The constable rapped upon his cell door with the truncheon and answered. 'Tell it to the judge, o shine of the sun.'

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