Night is falling around Daniel Monnier. Sitting on a small plastic stool, the 78-year-old, all-but-retired sculptor is patiently chipping away at the limestone wall of a tunnel-like path that runs along the Lot River between Saint-Cirq-Lapopie and Bouziès, in southern France. He’s carving the edges of what will soon be a polished limestone “mirror,” reflecting the river and the sky—if he calculated the angles right and the calcite crystals in the rock cooperate.
Rosalie Craig, Alex Gaumond and Jonny Bailey in Company. Photo: Brinkhoff Mogenburg
As a young gay boy, Hollywood musicals seduced me in the way others got lost in Lego. What started out as the intoxication of bold colours, broad comedy and astonishing dancing developed into an aching understanding of what was causing it all – love. Musical theatre can be pretty camp. It can also be devastating, awesome, tragic, political, subtle – pretty much anything it likes.
More than 12 years after Jannie Duncan walked off the grounds of a mental hospital and into a new identity, Debbie Carliner opened a newspaper and got the shock of her life. She was lying in bed in her home in Washington, D.C., on a Sunday morning, thumbing through The Washington Post. It was January 5, 1975.