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  My war with memory continues.  Watching the Sam Buntrock directed revival of the Stephen Sondheim/James Lapine masterwork Sunday in the Park with George, I thought how hard to judge the merits of anything when the mind, enamored (yes, I was but one of thousands of theater nerds who made the Shubert Theater his second…

One of the saddest days of my NYC life was when I walked past the home of the Off-Broadway headquarters of Circle Rep only to find a restaurant had taken over the theater’s premises on Seventh Avenue South. It was proof positive that the landmark institution’s financial woes were insurmountable; I mourned their demise, home…

How is it we discover too late the innovators to whom we owe a debt? The first picture frame I ever bought was a sectional one picked up at Art Brown on 46th Street; it was the only thing I could afford back in my early Manhattan years. I still own it; to its designer Bob Kulicke,…

Last week’s trip to San Francisco is written on my body. My back aches, which means I’m either out of shape, or getting too old to blithely scale the city’s steep hills. My partner J and I took more trains and trolleys than in past trips; hot baths at day’s end were warranted, a balm…

  Seeing Some Men at New York’s Second Stage Theater reminded me of an old Gil Scott-Heron lyric, one warning the establishment that “the revolution will not be televised.”  Playwright Terrence McNally’s panoramic look at the lives of American gay men over the span of 80 years shows “a people’s” collective journey trod in the…

Kurt Vonnegut 1922-2007                                     Roscoe Lee Brown 1925-2007