Showing posts with label autism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label autism. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 23, 2019

Play a Day: Sapience

Diana Burbano
For Tuesday I read Sapience by Diana Burbano and available at New Play Exchange.

sapience n.
sa·​pi·​ence / ˈsā-pē-ən(t)s
wisdom, knowledge, from sapient (adj) having or showing great wisdom or sound judgment.

The latin term for a human being is homo sapiens, or "man with wisdom." Coined in the late 18th century, we did seem to be the smart ones. But what is the nature of wisdom, of intelligence? In the past two hundred years we have discovered that humans are not exclusively intelligent. We are also not necessarily wise.

The action of Burbano's script resides in a laboratory, one ostensibly for the study of great apes, specifically one orangutan named Wookie. But we the audience witness a larger experiment in human interaction, between hyper-intelligent folks on the spectrum. between races, human sexuality and illness, the effect of singing Echo & the Bunnymen in a controlled environment.

How do our minds work? How much do we yet not know? How much time do we have left to figure it out? How can we be aware of death and not go insane? Have we already gone mad and we just don't realize it yet?

Who should I read tomorrow?

Sunday, April 15, 2018

Play a Day: Through Andrew's Eyes

Oscar Cabrera
For Sunday I read Through Andrew's Eyes by Oscar Cabrera, and available at New Play Exchange.

We were told that the death of a child can pull a family together or they can tear a family apart. I have found this to be true, but I do not imagine it is limited to any specific tragedy or crisis. The same can be said of the debilitating injury of a loved one, or as is the subject of Cabrera's play, the set of crises and constant concern and care evident when a member of your family is on the autistic spectrum.

The point is, nothing is the same. Nothing is normal. No one is spared change. A mother's pleasant dream is not just one in which her son is what we might call "normal" but that she is. That her life is again "normal."

Cabrera creates a family in a sympathetic hierarchy -- the younger sister, straining to be responsible, the older brother, who desperately wishes to abdicate his responsibility, the careworn mother, who has no choice but to be overbearing and firm -- all in the service of Andrew. We see him as he sees himself in the form of Person, who finds his other self as unknowable as those others around him.

Powerfully symbolic with graceful monologues on the indelible yet inconstant effects of memory, this is an affecting work on the enduring strength of familial commitment and love.