I went to several SLAMS while writing this article, each time trying to find the right words to describe an experience that is deliberately without words. I walked, ran, spun furiously, held poses, pretended to be a mouse as I scrambled on the floor.
If you like comedy, get ready to feel like a kid in a candy store.
Pat Falco’s project “Untitled November,” leads us to Dwight Street, where we hop into a dumpster together to view a snide piece about “AFFORDABLE HOUSING.” Eschewing art world clichés, he strives to present and create work that is approachable, humorous, and, perhaps above all, honest.
“People come in expecting leprechauns and rainbows, the sort of American and phony version of Irish culture,” says McCool on the misconceptions surrounding Irish theater. “Instead, they get a piece set in a meat plant in Belfast with prostitutes and drug dealers. Very gritty and very real.”
If you're a student who blew through your semester’s savings by the end of September, someone who hands over each paycheck directly to their landlord, or someone busy working to find work, sneezing next to one of greater Boston's many arts institutions can feel like an overdraft threat to your bank account. That should’t be the case, and in many instances, it’s not.