Prometheus

Zac and Ben, 13 February 2010

As an experiment, I want to record some of the things we discuss before and after rehearsal, just to see how they inform the work or how the work informs us.

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Zac and Ben, Brandon and Ben 27 January 2010

Zac’s Objective: get Ben out of the room

Ben lies prostrate on the floor on his back. Zac overturns a bench near him and lies on the other side of it. He sits opposite Ben in a chair. They gaze at each other. Ben rises, adjusts the lamp to focus on himself. While he does this, Zac attaches himself to Ben using a piece of cloth. He rises, they are bound. Zac tickles Ben. Frustrated, Ben pushes him off so he lands on the ground, the bond breaking. “Zeus says go.” “Zeus says,” hand on nose. Ben raises his hand to do so but gets distracted. “Who is Zeus?” Zac puts his finger to his nose.

It’s a game of simon says, almost. Zac repeats nothing but the words, “Zeus said.” “You’re teasing me” also enters. “Zeus says scratch,” and Zac scratches. He becomes manipulated by Ben. Anything “Zeus says,” Zac does. This is very interesting. This is a great exploration of power, or at least the power of words and commands. Zac is really crazy. “If I only had a brain.” This scene is mostly talking. “Pig farts smell like bacon in Arizona?” Zac?!

There is a lot of improvised text, but I think that the simon-says/zeus-says game is very helpful.

Also, asking Zeus questions through the crack in the ceiling works. It’s funny.

I think we should keep playing with the power of words and verbal commands. “Zeus says….” And whether it makes Ben leave, or makes Zac do things.

Other ideas:

Hermes/Zac uses the ten commandments at one point- that’s interesting.

I think the character of “Hermes” just needs rules in order to have more structure and pull away from the madness.

Brando and Ben:

Stacked boxes, Ben playing with his hands on the bench like spiders.

In comes Brandon. With a candle. He makes a build up to his entrance vocally from outside. Once he comes in, he wants to put a candle on the shelf. “We need more shelves.” Brandon wants to know if Ben wants to build a cabinet. “We’ll have to sacrifice some chairs.”  Brandon embraces Ben, for an unnecessarily long time. “You got dust on your jacket,” Ben tells him. “You wanna wear it?” They exchange. Brandon shows him how to make the jacket look cool. “Can I get you something to eat, something to drink? Would you like a massage?” Brandon offers.

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Danielle and Ben, 30 January 2010

*These are just notes, everyone, kind of unprocessed, but please look through and see what you spot.

Dani enters. She and Ben engage in casual conversation while Ben packs up some “excess baggage.” They engage in a game of catch with a red ball.  They kick it and play. Their relationship is relaxed and friendly. Ben seems happy to have someone to talk to. He introduces his roommate Henry, which is the tree. I love that he has an ongoing relationship to even the props in the room.

“I spend my days looking for inspiration for my books. At night I write.” Looking for inspiration is a very, VERY interesting activity.

They are growing physically tired from their game.

Dani- “I came from Mom and Dad’s house.”

I see brother and sister… I wonder if their relationship will transcend this at some point?

Danielle makes it clear that their family is not normal through her conversation. Family = Mom, Dad, dog; but Mom cries, Dad drinks. “Buster” is the dog’s name. He’s dead. Been dead 3 years. It’s been so, so long since Dani and Ben have seen each other, apparently.

Ben- “How long have I been gone?”

If he’s been gone so long, and losing track of time, how does this inform their scene? Anger, detachment….?

Is this ball game just casual? She’s getting more aggressive with it, even though she’s speaking very levelly about her job on the “outside” of Prometheus’ prison.

I’d like to see more of Ben doing his routine and being interrupted. Don’t we all have a routine of sorts?

They embrace, finally. “I missed you.”

Take 2

This is clearly a sort of visitation. Enter Danielle briskly, with intention. “I have to leave early, so I got here early.” She offers him a sandwich. “Anything new?”

“There’s an outside today because you’re here,” Ben says. When no one else is here, does the outside exist for Ben’s character? And is that why he wants every one to leave? Is he afraid of the outside? Is Ben an agoraphobic?

Ben as laden with knowledge- studying a French organic chemistry book- is very fascinating as a concept.

-“There’s always gonna be crime.” -“We’re human.” -“I’m sorry.”

Jasmine and Ben, 30 January 2010

Ben ritually rearranges the chair and table to make some sort of structure enclosing the red ball.  He then rearranges again to shut himself inside. He’s made a kind of fort of the furniture in the room.

Jasmine has entered. She sees his little structure.

“Hello,” Ben says, and Jasmine sits in front of one of the chairs. They make tiny physical contact with their hands. He’s imprisoned. They are looking at each other very intensely. Jasmine is visiting. We can’t hear their conversation, really. Just muttering. The connection between them is very tender and palpable, though; very present. Jas starts to remove the chairs in the structure. Ben protests. When he won’t come out of the prison, she scoots in. They look at each other deeply, and embrace. It occurs to me that the relationship of Jasmine to Ben could also be motherly. In a sudden gesture, he slaps the side of her face? (I couldn’t see) She moves back. They’re talking quietly, playing with the ball. Jasmine has distanced herself from him in confusion. She starts to be upset. “What the fuck are you doing? What the fuck is this? How fucking old are you, you’re building castles! Your three year old son does that!”

It’s almost the actress coming outside of just the circumstances and point-blank asking what the fuck Ben thinks he’s trying to do here. “I have the uncanny ability to create,” he says, having emerged from his makeshift prison to wander the room. Jasmine gets up and puts her head against the wall, frustrated. Ben begins to kick the red ball around the room. Jasmine comes back to center to meet him. “What does that mean?” He’s being very opaque with her, as though she can’t understand what he’s actually done. He’s making metaphors, allusions of Frankenstein. “That’s bullshit.” Jasmine is angry. “There’s a good and a bad side to people; the gifts we have, we can all fuck things up or make them beautiful.”

“The bad side of me is trying to kill the good side.” Ben is gone to crazy-land. Jasmine gets pissed and overturns the table. “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?”

She attacks him physically and verbally with the phrase, over and over, breaking the room. Kyle instructs her to stay close to him. She’s actively trying to break his opacity, his mask, his subverted intention. Out of breath, they pause. “Thinking about you,” is Ben’s response. He makes it clear that he has separated himself from her to protect her from his poor example.

“I can’t protect you anymore from out there. That’s why I’m here.”

She repeatedly beats the mats, angry and beyond breaking point. Ben kicks the ball towards her. It appears they were a couple, they love each other, but she can’t handle him, she’s beyond patient-point with the game. Refusing to play with the ball, she sits in a seat opposite Ben. They look intently at each other, and begin to touch. Lightly. Caresses. This is very tangible, it’s like watching Brandon and Ben be tender again. It’s exquisite. Ben smells Jasmine, touches her face, her hair. Her hand rests on his knee. She is only touching him with her eyes. He continues to pet her hair. It’s very gentle, loving, he kisses her forehead. They embrace at last.

A lot of these scenes need to end in an embrace for some reason. Jasmine mentions that before Kyle called the scene, she thought she would rearrange the chairs and furniture from Ben’s fort, lining everything up along the sides of the room in an organized way, a re-stasis.

Deconstructing this improv could be very interesting. Also, the inaudibility of it is great.

Why is it that these scenes are so often a fight just to make contact?

These characters are just fighting to break everything down to touch Prometheus. Is that what he is? An isolationist, he’s segregated himself in every way possible, shuts down, turns away, consumes himself with knowledge and books, and all anyone wants is to touch him, get through to him, affect him emotionally, embrace him, be WITH him. All we want to do, really, actually, is be with Prometheus and we have to go through so much just to get there. Prometheus does parallel Frankenstein; he’s isolated himself completely from the world, not unable but rather unwilling to account for what he has created.

Io Scene Rehearsal, 27 January 2010

Using the shadow-casting overhead floodlight, the improvisation begins with the three women, Jacki, Chelsea, and “Chase,” bound to three of the four poles in the basement. Their objective is the same as everyone’s- make Ben leave the room. The difference is that each of the girls has memorized text that she relates to. Jacki is reciting prayers and portions of Go Ask Alice, while Chelsea has text from Look Back in Anger, Alice in Wonderland, and other sources. Chase has Anne Elliot’s poem “Trojan Love Poems,” lines from Macbeth, and lines from the Prometheus script. The three also make up their own lines when necessary. Jacki is saran-wrapped and blindfolded, Chelsea is chained by her leg with considerable freedom to move, and Chase has her hands tied behind her with rope.

The voices in the room are incredible. The texts flow well together, especially when the girls find ways to echo each other’s lines. One particularly memorable echo is Chelsea’s “death, death, death…” brought on by the finishing line of Jacki’s prayer- “…now and at the hour of our death.” Prometheus/Ben tries to accomplish an impossible task in the corner, transcribing every thought that enters his head. He is obviously distracted by the girls’ voices and noises- rattling chains, kicked chairs, toppled boxes, stomping feet, and various vocal beckons and cat-calls, tooth-sucking, breath. As Ben becomes restless, he starts to traverse the space. He moves a tree in front of Jacki. He can’t seem to get away from their noise- they are bound but their gazes and direction of voice follow him. Although their relationships to him are somewhat unclear at this point, they all have distinct feelings towards Prometheus.

The improv pauses, and re-starts considering relationships. Jacki cannot stand Ben’s presence, breath, touch. Chase continues to kick boxes towards Ben as he huddles over a desk in the corner, while Chelsea beckons him, coaxing him, reaching towards him. The intensity of the scene is magnified as Ben tries to yell over the girls. He denies hearing them at all (“I think I hear crickets!”), then reads his thoughts to them using telegram format (“Stop. I am bothered by strange noises. Stop.”). “I can be louder,” he yells. “Won’t you penetrate this wall, I built it for that purpose,” Chase hisses. The line is especially effective and almost obscene. There is din in the room as all three girls yell at him, or in Jacki’s case, frantically “check out” of the situation, rapidly reciting prayers. The chaos of the noise is maybe too overwhelming to use all the time, but at the moment it deafens and rattles those who are observing.

Ben refuses to leave and his resolve is maddening. The girls will not stop until he goes out the door. His behavior begins to borderline the profane and vulgar. He writes on the girls with his pen, ignoring Jacki’s writhing and shrieking at his touch, and disregarding Chase’s hisses.The action is an upsetting embodiment of what it is to have one’s history or voice drowned out, written over. The girls continue to fight him physically as well as verbally. Chelsea, within the reach of her chain, throws herself at Ben, shoving him. He is furious. The girls taunt him, “Did you try to touch a girl? Did she push you away?” “You won’t leave, you can’t leave!” They argue back and forth amongst each other, “He can leave!” “No, he can’t!” All formal text is markedly broken; Chelsea bellows “KILL YOURSELF!” Ben has been traversing the poles for some time now, lending even more dizzying motion and unrest to the scene. He spits on the girls in turn, taking the character to a crueler, harder place than he has perhaps ever been.

Jacki snaps, “LEAVE, YOU SONAVABITCH, LEAVE!” The message portrayed by a free-wandering man in a room full of bound and anguished women is painful- man is liberated and free to end his agony, but these women are stuck, bound, tormented, and his flagrant disdain and refusal to acknowledge their want is brutal. Ben even forms ear plugs from paper and stuffs them into his ears to avoid hearing the women.

The intensity of the scene has peaked- I am reminded forcibly of Artaud’s Theatre of Cruelty in which the audience can’t help but run mad, witnessing the most primal impulses of humanity. The binding of the women, their rawness of their torture, whatever it is, grates on my being. I am infuriated, barely able to sit still for the anxiety I feel, the burning desire to get out of my seat and remove Ben from the room, ending the scene myself. The observers are all in burning pain for an end. I want to end it, make it end, where is the end?

End scene. Discussion- feminist ideas, Brecht, Artaud, are all referenced. The scene, is excellent, raw, and shows potential for great effectiveness once specified and whittled to a purer essence. What are these women? What do they need from Ben? What about the scene works- how upset should we be while watching this, and how much screaming is far too much? What are we trying to say here, and how are we saying it?

Ben and Zac Improvisation Transcript, 20 January 2010

Ben hides under the table, crouching with his head ducked out from the cloth. The table is set with a roll on a plate, a glass, and a blanket stretched over it like a cloth.  Zac enters and immediately crouches to Ben’s level. Using the text, he demands a detailed explanation of Prometheus’ actions. Ben does nothing but breath under the table. He looks around him and makes noises as Zac repeats his request for information, using the text. Crossing to the other side of the table, he tips the bread towards Ben’s head. “A detailed explanation please?” Ben rotates the table, and Zac steps away, bothered. Zac repeats the text, upset by the moving table. Finally he breaks from the text. “You’re teasing me, you’re treating me like a child.” Again, Zac returns to the table, crouches. Ben continues to move. Zac is upset further. He requests information using further lines from the scene. Snatching bread and water off the table, Zac makes his seat on the unmoving floor and eats. Ben keeps moving the table, an entire unit. He really is the table. “These are the words and these are the actions of madmen.” Zac informs Ben. “Let’s try again,” he says. From the top of the text, he recites lines trying more desperately to receive communication from Ben. Ben keeps being the moving table-animal. Zac is only angrier, more forceful. He leaps on top of table Ben, embracing him. He uses the table cloth to illustrate the story he tells about Prometheus’ fate. The story, though using the EXACT text, becomes bawdy. At the end of it, Zac leaps off, draping the cloth around himself like a toga. Ben, like a crab, jogs around the room with the table on his back. “You’re insane,” Zac tells him. Ben persists. Zac attempts Ben’s game, putting a chair over his head and walking. Realizing the absurdity, he hurls the chair down. (Prometheus has become the trickster again; he makes everyone else play his game tonight.) Zac gets atop the table again, restricting Ben’s movement. Agitated, Ben, like a hermit crab, switches homes and ducks under a chair. He becomes the chair and jounces away. Zac lets out a shriek, still lying flat on the table. Finally, moving the table forward with himself, Zac comes to the center of the room. He has become the table. Ben switches chairs again arbitrarily. The table and chair seem to prepare for battle. The table is too cumbersome. Zac overturns it. Numbly he continues to recite lines from the top of the scene. “I’m over here!” Ben calls from under a chair. Blindly, Zac turns his head. Ben shifts shapes to another chair. “I’m over here!” A game of Marco Polo ensues. Ben resumes the table, then drops it. He then assumes the table cloth. He raises a pack of matches found in the room. As he lights one, Zac screams, “Don’t!” He is trapped under the table, though. Attempting to move with the table, he inches forward. Ben lights two more matches. Finally, Zac snaps and springs from the table, attacking Ben. The two switch forms. Jogging away with the matches (“FIRE!”) Ben re-establishes the table and two chairs while Zac lies on the floor entangled in the cloth Ben formerly wore. When Ben tries to extract the cloth from Zac’s body to reset the table, Zac becomes animated and clings to the cloth. Running away, Ben places the plate and cup haphazardly on the table and ducks underneath it. Zac rises, moving towards the table. Ben is playing a game of hide and seek, it seems. He runs away from Zac, who slumps over the table. Ben sits on a box, elevated, with his middle finger directed at Zac’s back. When Zac sees this flagrant insult, he becomes more insane. He begins the lines from the scene again, with more repetition. He approaches Ben slowly. When they are close, both outstretch their arms, to grasp each other or embrace. At the last moment, Ben cackles and dashes away. Zac screams, “You’re TEASING me!” He crawls to the center of the room, covers himself with the table cloth, and froths more lines from the mouth while Ben comes forward calmly, lies prostate on the floor and lights a match, holding it at his chest. Zac emerges from the blanket, sees Ben’s actions, and joins him, slumped over his body. Taking the matchbook, he vainly tries to light an already-used match. His inability to make fire causes another outburst. Screaming, he turns to lie face-down on the floor. Laughing and sobbing, he lies as Ben hides in the sheet, safe, calm, and lit by the overhead light. Scene.

Ben and Brandon Improvisation Transcript, 20 January 2010

Brando enters and slams the door, acknowledging the catatonic Ben.

He lies on the floor on top of him, conforming his body to Ben’s curled shape, rocking him as though to ease him out of this rigid ball. Ben maintains his tightly curled form as Brandon gently rubs his back and shoulders, as though trying to release him from his tense position. He rocks him to a sitting position, using his momentum, like a bottom heavy egg brought upright. He continues to rub him. When he is unsuccessful, Brandon lifts Ben physically by linking his arms under Ben’s. Ben refuses to break the egg/ball form. He allows Brandon to hold him and shake him. We expect Ben’s legs to drop out from the shaking but he remains tightly curled. After this effort proves futile, Brandon sets Ben down on the floor, allowing him to roll onto his back in the egg/ball shape. From here, Brandon tries to flatten him onto his back from the torso up. He is still unsuccessful; even after blowing on Ben’s eyes/forehead, Brandon cannot make Ben lie flat. Ben rolls to his side, Brandon retrieves a basket from the room and tries a new tactic- he creeps forward and slams the basket on the floor from behind Ben, near his head, so as to startle him from his rigid form. He then attempts a new tactic with another object- Brandon dangles a chain above Brandon’s head and allows it to make noise in his ear, attempting to irritate him into changing his resolve. No response from Ben. Brandon then retrieves a plate, with bread, and performs eating the bread from the plate before Ben so as to tempt him bodily from his catatonia. No response. And so, Brandon places the bread at the table, and after entreating Ben with clownish noises to rise one last time, he lifts Ben’s entire egg-like form, carries him to a chair at the table, and sets him in it. Ben retains his shape and teeters precariously at the edge of his chair. Sensing the danger, Brandon props him up with another chair so that he cannot fall forward or to Ben’s right. Then, rather than feeding him bread, Brandon forces Ben to grasp and then bite the bread. The attempt results in violent resistance on Ben’s part; he snaps back into place, somehow injuring Brandon minimally. Brandon retrieves headphones from the repertoire of objects in the room. Singing, he places the headphones on Ben’s ears, set to music, and says, “be right back.” We sit in silence as Brandon dashes from the room with an empty glass. He returns with it filled. Instead of making him drink, Brandon becomes sadistically inclined and pours the water on Ben’s back and hair. Ben responds by heavily breathing but resolving to maintain facial neutrality. Brandon sits, drinks from the glass, offers it to Ben. He then turns away, and waits for this reverse psychology (ignoring Ben) to work. When it does not, he returns to face forward, and sprinkles Ben with water from the glass. He then says, “In the name of the father, and of the son, and of the holy spirit,” as if in exorcism. This fails to work. A change of music- Brandon adjusts the song to punk rock, and raises the volume on the headphones. He then behaves as a wild punk rocker, overturning chairs, leaping, and screaming at Ben. Ben starts to crack, laughing tensely. Brandon too laughs maniacally. He bangs on the piano, sprinkles Ben with more water, sips from the glass, grows tired and pats Ben’s shoulders and neck while the two laugh together. He returns to his task- Brandon tries talking to Ben nicely. He then tries taunting him, standing opposite Ben, at face level. “Don’t you want to hit me?” He sits in the chair which supports Ben’s legs, searches his iPod, asking, “What music do you NOT like?” Brandon chooses a song called “I love you,” and adjusts the music. “This will all be over if you just stand up,” Brandon says. Ben stays stuck, laughing, but clearly exhausted. Brandon asks for a camera phone. Kyle provides, and the now comatose Ben, who sits slumped in the chair with his eyes closed. Brandon discovers the picture memory is full. While waiting for Kyle to adjust the camera phone, Brandon pets Ben’s head, neck, rubs his hair, massages him. “Are my hands too cold?” He says. “You’re all wet. Must be gettin’ cramped.” As he sets up to take Ben’s picture on the phone, Brandon is distracted by Zac, opening the door of the Annex basement. Brando redirects an imaginary interruption to the upstairs door. “We’re rehearsing,” he says. “Upstairs should be unlocked.” Saxophone can be heard issuing from the deafening headphones on Ben’s ears. Brandon tries lifting Ben from the chair again. Ben’s figure unfolds, his legs are extended. But Ben has either passed out or chosen to go to sleep so that he is limp to Brandon’s physical entreaties. Whistling to the music, Brandon tries vainly to raise Ben’s head. “You should have something to eat,” he says finally. “You’ll get scurvy.” He tries to feed Ben bread. Politely. Ben does not oblige him. He remains slumped over, as though passed out. The bread falls to the floor. Suddenly, Ben snaps up. “WAIT!” He exclaims, his first words of the improv. “Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!” He jumps up, returns to the center of the room, and throws himself to the floor in a ball. Maniacal laughter ensues as Brandon stands above him, then throws himself violently at Ben’s curled figure, forcing him to unfold. Ben lies limply on the floor again. “Would you look me in the eyes?” Brandon kneels above Ben, entreating him, while holding his face. He lists the various things he has done to Ben tonight, while holding him and gently caressing him there on the floor. “Just open your eyes. You’ll go blind if you keep them closed! Open your eyes. Please? I’ve done a lot for you tonight.” He then gives up, and rolls over, lying perpendicularly across Ben’s figure. “Let me tell you a story. Let me tell you a story about this guy- Ben Crawford. Ben Crawford…” Brandon proceeds to improvise a strange story about the monstrosity that is Ben Crawford, citing green pockmarks and addiction to anime porn as reasons why Ben is so repulsive to society. The story takes a turn when Brandon describes Ben’s unrelenting courage. The masculine traits he attributes to Ben in his interactions with a trophy woman named Evelyn are very telling about the male psyche. Ben cackles madly at Brandon’s story, merely to disrupt him. Brandon resumes. “Right,” he says. The story continues. Another twist happens when Ben is described as a street urchin, thrown from a bar, who finds comfort in the stench of sewers. The story becomes progressively more offensive and preposterous, insulting, vulgar, crude, and certainly disgusting. Ben starts looking at Brandon, laughing and listening to the story. Ben’s laughter again becomes disruptive and strange. “We’re almost done!” Brandon hushes him. “The moral of this story is: ‘When you seek revenge, dig two graves.’” He quotes a previously placed slip of paper withdrawn from his pocket. Brandon keeps talking down at Ben, bragging about the riches he has been bestowed with since publishing his marvelous story. The fantasy continues, becoming more and more grandiose and absurd. It is telling of fascination with excessive, luxurious wealth and possessions. Tempting Ben with the sight of his super-souped up purple car parked outside, Brandon lifts Ben’s figure from the floor, takes him to the door, and props him there to show him his “car. “ The fantasy car is of course, nonexistent. Brandon becomes upset- “somebody stole my car.” But Ben just laughs. The game is on Brandon. Suddenly, Ben has another fit. “Wait, wait, wait, wait!” He fights Brandon’s grasp, and throws himself again to the floor, curled tightly into a ball. Brandon screams in frustration, on top of Ben, and then begs him to stand. “I’ve worked so hard,” he pleads. Hearing Kyle’s laughter, Brandon says, “He’s laughing!” Feeling humiliated, perhaps, he begs Ben. “Please stand. Please just stand once.” Becoming completely at a loss for new tactics, Brandon tells Ben that perhaps he has found the solution to life. He lies on the floor in a ball. “Maybe you have the answer, maybe you are right. Do you think you have the right answer? It’s just you and me now. We’re here- who do you think you’ll talk to, depend on?” Brandon gives up on the ball-form, and squirms closer to Ben on his belly, until his face is close to Ben’s, and says, “What do you think you’ll do? You’ll die. Do you think you’re a Greek god? You’re not! I’ll tell you a secret. I’m a god! Now, I’m not saying your way is wrong. I can leave, though. I can stand up and walk out that door. I have choice. That makes me a god.” Brandon is now sitting upright, cross-legged, philosophizing. He becomes Brandon the college student again, complaining of the humility of not having seen Avatar and the ridiculousness of being bound to social expectations. He tells Ben he will be stuck forever. He tells him he will never make choices. He will be in the room until it is demolished. Ben’s refusal to respond to construction workers in the future will lead to his demise, bull-dozed with the building. “And I will be the one with the bull-dozer,” Brandon says. He stands, appearing to be ready to leave. He asks Ben whether there is family or friends he should call. “Is this your funeral shroud?” He asks. No response. Brandon tries to knock out polls in the room, as though about to bring down the building. He stacks chairs over Ben. He then conducts an impromptu funeral speech. “We know nothing of this man,” he says, “except that he was too foolish to leave his house when entreated by the man upstairs. He could have done wonderful things, but no. Then again, he could have been the opposite. He could have started cancer (as opposed to having been the one to find the cure). Let us rejoice then, in that case!” Asking for music, Brandon is granted The Beatles “Twist and Shout.” He and Zac dance around Ben’s curled body. Jumping on his body they laugh and play. Brandon then closes the show by thanking us for our attendance. He then tells us to come party at his place. Insisting the music persist, he tells the observers to come along, and exit the room. He unplugs the light, and every one leaves. Only now does Ben change his position to sitting upright in the chairs that formerly covered him. End scene.

In my posession

is a copy of Liz Lochhead’s Medea, which I highly recommend to the Io girls. Also of interest to the Io scene is a poem by Anne Elliot entitled “Trojan Love Poems.” I don’t want to post it online for copyright reasons, but I have it, of course, and will give you a hard copy rather than electronically distribute it. Look forward to it.

-Jess.