Arthur Rimbaud made his way through language like some crazed channeler of unseen forces. As a Symbolist poet, Rimbaud scrambled the senses and his prose, forging a synesthetic wash of words sustained by their own momentum and internal sense. There is no clear form (he did not write sonnets); there's
Oscar Wilde pursued a life -- an art -- of pure uselessness. This was not because he objected to pragmatic pursuits, if kept in their proper place: "We can forgive a man for making a useful thing as long as he does not admire it. The only excuse for making a useless thing is that one admires it inten
"In the work of every American playwright at the end of the twentieth century, there are only two stages: before she or he has read Maria Irene Fornes -- and after."
Though Paula Vogel's words are a fitting tribute to this dramatist's sensitive works, it's not surprising if Fornes' name draws a b
Some artists march to the beat of a different drummer, but Erik Satie wrote the melody to accompany that different beat, and then gave the whole piece a crazy name. Dismissed by many critics during his lifetime as an eccentric bohemian whose absurdist humor disguised a lack of talent, Satie is now cr