Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Applaud The Spirit Of Jason Miller
Posted: Sunday, 12 August 2007 9:33PM
Applaud The Spirit Of Jason Miller
corbett@wilknewsradio.com
Monday, August 13, 2007
Jason Miller’s spirit hovered in the small dark theater Saturday night, as it always will no matter what production the Scranton Public Theater mounts from here until forever.
Miller shaped the soul of the acting company.
Now he is its soul.
Had he lived, Saturday night’s production of “Love Letters” by AR Gurney would have satisfied his demand for excellence. Simple and pure, the show conveyed the storyteller’s art in a way that Miller, who died in Scranton in 2001 at 62, would have enjoyed.
Master storyteller that he was, Miller loved words. After returning to his hometown after achieving fame and living in California and New York, he shared his life and his deep regard for the language of the stage with two of the best friends he ever had.
Agnes Cummings, who co-stars with Malachy McCourt in “Love Letters” and Bob Schlesinger, who produced and directed the show, never let him down. They followed his lead and learned from his example.
Miller taught them well.
Through them, and others like them, we have the continuation of all that Miller deemed holy.
Because of them and their continuing hard work, maybe one day we’ll have what he truly wanted more than anything for his town – a permanent theater for the Scranton Public Theater to call home.
For now, the company is firmly ensconced at the Old Brick Theater at 128 W. Market St. in North Scranton, a temporary place of blessed refuge from which Cummings, Schlesinger and the rest of their theatrical tribe can work their magic, casting spells with words and lights and gestures that all have meaning in our lives.
McCourt, a world-class raconteur, all-around Irish handful and dear friend of Miller, joined Cummings onstage Saturday in “Love Letters,” a play that reminds us how brittle the relationships of our lives remain and how far apart even the closest friends sometimes grow.
Cummings and McCourt read the script’s lasting words and made their syllables breathe.
Schlesinger had done well – directing them to inhale and exhale at just the right moments.
With all that fresh oxygen flying around, the audience couldn’t help but feel life in the room.
And we realized just how alive we all really are.
When McCourt spoke with us last week on “Corbett,” he expressed great admiration for his own personal relationship with Scranton and his love of the ongoing chaos that drives us who love this city deeper into the quest to know who we are.
Miller also thrived on the madness and the search for identity. Dancing with chaos helped make him who he was. Raw emotion helped him live and raw emotion helped him die.
Still, he exhibited great brilliance and discipline on the stage.
Sitting in the theater Saturday night reminded me of Miller’s priceless contributions to Scranton and the pursuit of truth through art. Miller taught us that no matter how damning, art is wisdom.
Despite his faults and failings, and he had many, Miller gave us honesty, something that many of even the bravest among us refuse to share.
Cummings continues to unfurl that sacred banner on the altar of the stage.
So does Schlesinger.
And McCourt has always been quick to enlist in the never-ending battle to do justice to art and apply art to justice. Like Miller, he too is unique – a man who will always be a hard act to follow as he steps fearlessly and willingly into life’s disturbances and dramas.
Plays are wonderful places to engage an enemy.
In many ways, the stage is neutral territory where we can broker a peace from the greatest mayhem, a place where the lessons are many and where everybody in the audience survives in the end.
Playwrights carve meaning from shining veins of creativity.
After coming home from a brief hospital stay shortly before he died, Miller told me that the doctors are like coal miners – they always find danger if they dig deep enough.
Good theater people also dig deep. And what they find in those shining veins of creativity, they share.
Accept their gifts.
“Love Letters” runs again this weekend.
Call 570-344-3656 for reservations, details or changes in the schedule.
You, too, should meet the spirit of Jason Miller.
That spirit will help you feel alive.
Source: http://wilknetwork.com/Applaud-The-Spirit-Of-Jason-Miller/800292">WILK-FM
Applaud The Spirit Of Jason Miller
corbett@wilknewsradio.com
Monday, August 13, 2007
Jason Miller’s spirit hovered in the small dark theater Saturday night, as it always will no matter what production the Scranton Public Theater mounts from here until forever.
Miller shaped the soul of the acting company.
Now he is its soul.
Had he lived, Saturday night’s production of “Love Letters” by AR Gurney would have satisfied his demand for excellence. Simple and pure, the show conveyed the storyteller’s art in a way that Miller, who died in Scranton in 2001 at 62, would have enjoyed.
Master storyteller that he was, Miller loved words. After returning to his hometown after achieving fame and living in California and New York, he shared his life and his deep regard for the language of the stage with two of the best friends he ever had.
Agnes Cummings, who co-stars with Malachy McCourt in “Love Letters” and Bob Schlesinger, who produced and directed the show, never let him down. They followed his lead and learned from his example.
Miller taught them well.
Through them, and others like them, we have the continuation of all that Miller deemed holy.
Because of them and their continuing hard work, maybe one day we’ll have what he truly wanted more than anything for his town – a permanent theater for the Scranton Public Theater to call home.
For now, the company is firmly ensconced at the Old Brick Theater at 128 W. Market St. in North Scranton, a temporary place of blessed refuge from which Cummings, Schlesinger and the rest of their theatrical tribe can work their magic, casting spells with words and lights and gestures that all have meaning in our lives.
McCourt, a world-class raconteur, all-around Irish handful and dear friend of Miller, joined Cummings onstage Saturday in “Love Letters,” a play that reminds us how brittle the relationships of our lives remain and how far apart even the closest friends sometimes grow.
Cummings and McCourt read the script’s lasting words and made their syllables breathe.
Schlesinger had done well – directing them to inhale and exhale at just the right moments.
With all that fresh oxygen flying around, the audience couldn’t help but feel life in the room.
And we realized just how alive we all really are.
When McCourt spoke with us last week on “Corbett,” he expressed great admiration for his own personal relationship with Scranton and his love of the ongoing chaos that drives us who love this city deeper into the quest to know who we are.
Miller also thrived on the madness and the search for identity. Dancing with chaos helped make him who he was. Raw emotion helped him live and raw emotion helped him die.
Still, he exhibited great brilliance and discipline on the stage.
Sitting in the theater Saturday night reminded me of Miller’s priceless contributions to Scranton and the pursuit of truth through art. Miller taught us that no matter how damning, art is wisdom.
Despite his faults and failings, and he had many, Miller gave us honesty, something that many of even the bravest among us refuse to share.
Cummings continues to unfurl that sacred banner on the altar of the stage.
So does Schlesinger.
And McCourt has always been quick to enlist in the never-ending battle to do justice to art and apply art to justice. Like Miller, he too is unique – a man who will always be a hard act to follow as he steps fearlessly and willingly into life’s disturbances and dramas.
Plays are wonderful places to engage an enemy.
In many ways, the stage is neutral territory where we can broker a peace from the greatest mayhem, a place where the lessons are many and where everybody in the audience survives in the end.
Playwrights carve meaning from shining veins of creativity.
After coming home from a brief hospital stay shortly before he died, Miller told me that the doctors are like coal miners – they always find danger if they dig deep enough.
Good theater people also dig deep. And what they find in those shining veins of creativity, they share.
Accept their gifts.
“Love Letters” runs again this weekend.
Call 570-344-3656 for reservations, details or changes in the schedule.
You, too, should meet the spirit of Jason Miller.
That spirit will help you feel alive.
Source: http://wilknetwork.com/Applaud-The-Spirit-Of-Jason-Miller/800292">WILK-FM
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Sunday, January 6, 2008
Behind the scenes of Murdered Innocence
Unavailable for embedding, so click HERE. If you can't spare 7:54 minutes to watch the whole thing, skip to 4:51 (aprox.).
Saturday, January 5, 2008
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