As GERMINAL began last night, the woman behind me alarmingly whispered to her date, “What is that man doing?!”
I wasn’t sure which man she was referring to - the one crumpled in a lump on the side of the stage or the one distractedly directing a psychedelic light with an oversized remote control. Eventually, all four performers stood up and began to silently communicate via text messages projected on a large wall. Texting? Yeah, we do that too. The nervous audience laughter slowly melted away.