All Serious Art Is Being

In Rehearsals I Get So Completely Wrapped Up With The Reality That's Occurring On Stage That By The Time The Play Has Opened I'm Not Usually Quite As Aware Of The Distinctions Between What I'd Intended And The Result. There Are Many Ways Of Getting The Same Result.

George, Who Is Out Somewhere There In The Dark, Who Is Good To Me - Whom I Revile, Who Can Keep Learning The Games We Play As Quickly As I Can Change Them. Who Can Make Me Happy And I Do Not Wish To Be Happy. And Yes, I Do Wish To Be Happy. George And Martha: Sad, Sad, Sad. Whom I Will Not Forgive For Having Come To Rest; For Having Seen Me And Having Said: “yes, This Will Do”. Who Has Made The Hideous, The Hurting, The Insulting Mistake Of Loving… Me, And Must Be Punished For It. George And Martha… Sad, Sad, Sad.

The Health Of A Nation, A Society, Can Be Determined By The Art It Demands. We Have Insisted Of Television And Our Movies That They Not Have Anything To Do With Anything, That They Be Our Never-never Land; And If We Demand This Same Function Of Our Live Theatre, What Will Be Left Of The Visual-auditory Arts - Save The Dance (in Which Nobody Talks) And Music (to Which Nobody Listens)?

As A Fairly Objective Judgment, I Do Think That My Plays As They Come Out Are Better Than Most Other Things That Are Put On The Same Year. But That Doesn't Make Them Very Good Necessarily.

I Am Pleased And Reassured By The Fact That A Lot Of Younger Playwrights Seem To Pay Me Some Attention And Gain Some Nourishment From What I Do.