Neil Fauerso

We are now in the phase of Grandpa Lynch.

One of the pleasures of the show is that you don’t have to be knowledgeable or really even have any interest in Theatre Arts or Robert Tobin’s life or collection.

I don’t know what’s going to happen. It’s a new feeling — fear with some glimmer of the unknown, actual change like light diffusing off the bend of a mountain tunnel.

The three shows use the tactility, dimension, and heft of their objects for narrative immersion.

It is fascinating to see the skeleton of such an awe-inspiring work in the form of drafts, notes, and marginalia. 

While we think we are the hero of our own movie, we're actually merely one villain of many in a rogue’s gallery that just drifts on and on, like a steadicam tracking shot.

Alain Resnais' melancholic, rapturous depiction of a brief encounter between two married people in the scarred city of Hiroshima is a jewel of the French New Wave movement.

Many of us think this is finally the time we will complete our Major Project. I suggest a more modest goal: watch art films you were too tired or busy to watch in the past.

Phewwwww. This was a recommendation by a friend (thanks?) and is one of the scariest and most unsettling things I’ve ever seen.

In this highly meta play-within-a-play, Juliette Binoche plays a famed actress returning to her breakthrough work, this time playing the older woman instead of the ingénue.

New series: Glasstire's Neil Fauerso brings you interesting (perhaps unexpected) movie recommendations that you can stream at home.

This show is bracingly unsparing and unsentimental.

I made sure prior to the Austin screening to post on social media jokes about no one wanting to go with me, to secure that I couldn’t bail the day of, like a poser. What is the purpose of depicting such misery, especially in almost real time (sometimes in a surreal, slower than real time)?

The three shows form a remarkably detailed and cogent meditation on power, spaces, and relationships.

One of the revelations of this exhibit is how various visual artistic movements throughout the 20th century are physically manifested and demonstrated through theater and performance. 

Reviews of current shows by Jorge Alegría, Mario Ybarra Jr., and Jennifer Ling Datchuk.

Artists, musicians, and other creative people are leaving Austin for smaller towns in the Hill Country.

“It’s harder to get people out during the holiday season for truly transgressive work,” she tells me. “Wait 'til the new year.” 

These pieces are beautiful, dynamic sculptures that activate a lingering disquiet that they should… do something.

Both of these shows speak to the slippery and amorphous nature of systems, how they replicate and cannibalize their opposition.