"Box" and "Quotations from Chairman Mao Tse-Tung" represent Edward Albee's ongoing attempt to replace dramatic, linear, narrative with something more abstract and akin to musical form. This means that many theatergoers would find the experience "Box/Mao" to be teetering between pretentiousness and banality. "Box" presents the audience with a cube, with open sides and its twelve joints painted with glo paint, standing naked alone on the stage. We then hear the disembodied voice of a woman announce "Box." Eventually the voice has more to say, about life, craftsmanship, music, and milk, punctuated by pregnant pauses. The problem with just reading "Box" is that the attempt to apply musical form to dramatic structure is lost outside of performance, where the voice of the woman can ebb and flow, and the rhythm of the piece, with its periods of silence and exploding nonsequiters, achieves a kind of musical pattern.

In "Quotations from Chairman Mao Tse-Tung" we are confronted with four characters on the deck of an ocean liner (again, we are dealing with minimalist set design). Mao Tse-Tung walks around the stage and indeed the entire theater, spouting actual quotations, most of which critique American imperialism (Albee instructs that the actor playing Mao should be oriental or else should wear a Mao mask). The audience also has to contend with an Old Woman who recites "Over the Hill to the Poorhouse," a poem by Will Carlton. Ignoring this pair are the other two characters in the play, a Long-Winded Lady who tells all about her troubles and her sex life to a Minister, who says nothing in response to her rambling confession. However, he does nod a lot. Of course these things run together in point and counterpoint to each other. Again, this performance piece loses something on the printed page, where the total effect of the sounds, not to mention the words, is buried. Consequently, "Box/Mao" should ideally be read by those interested in having the two pieces performed, because that is where they really come alive.

Performance Notes: "Box" and "Quotations From Chairman Mao Tse-Tung" are separate plays, but Edward Albee feels "they are more effective performed enmeshed." Albee's ideal performance would be "Box," followed by "Quotations From Chairman Mao Tse-Tung," followed by "Box," all without intermission. The playwright has also suggested that if "Box" is performed by itself, it should be played two or three times in a row--which is why the voice in "Box" is usually recorded--with lighting changes deemed appropriate by the director. "Quotations From Chairman Mao Tse-Tung" can be performed without "Box," but it requires the removal of excerpts from "Box" which are included in the preferred joint performance.

"Box" and "Quotations from Chairman Mao Tse-Tung" represent Edward Albee's ongoing attempt to replace dramatic, linear, narrative with something more abstract and akin to musical form. This means that many theatergoers would find the experience "Box/Mao" to be teetering between pretentiousness and banality. "Box" presents the audience with a cube, with open sides and its twelve joints painted with glo paint, standing naked alone on the stage. We then hear the disembodied voice of a woman announce "Box." Eventually the voice has more to say, about life, craftsmanship, music, and milk, punctuated by pregnant pauses. The problem with just reading "Box" is that the attempt to apply musical form to dramatic structure is lost outside of performance, where the voice of the woman can ebb and flow, and the rhythm of the piece, with its periods of silence and exploding nonsequiters, achieves a kind of musical pattern.

In "Quotations from Chairman Mao Tse-Tung" we are confronted with four characters on the deck of an ocean liner (again, we are dealing with minimalist set design). Mao Tse-Tung walks around the stage and indeed the entire theater, spouting actual quotations, most of which critique American imperialism (Albee instructs that the actor playing Mao should be oriental or else should wear a Mao mask). The audience also has to contend with an Old Woman who recites "Over the Hill to the Poorhouse," a poem by Will Carlton. Ignoring this pair are the other two characters in the play, a Long-Winded Lady who tells all about her troubles and her sex life to a Minister, who says nothing in response to her rambling confession. However, he does nod a lot. Of course these things run together in point and counterpoint to each other. Again, this performance piece loses something on the printed page, where the total effect of the sounds, not to mention the words, is buried. Consequently, "Box/Mao" should ideally be read by those interested in having the two pieces performed, because that is where they really come alive.

Performance Notes: "Box" and "Quotations From Chairman Mao Tse-Tung" are separate plays, but Edward Albee feels "they are more effective performed enmeshed." Albee's ideal performance would be "Box," followed by "Quotations From Chairman Mao Tse-Tung," followed by "Box," all without intermission. The playwright has also suggested that if "Box" is performed by itself, it should be played two or three times in a row--which is why the voice in "Box" is usually recorded--with lighting changes deemed appropriate by the director. "Quotations From Chairman Mao Tse-Tung" can be performed without "Box," but it requires the removal of excerpts from "Box" which are included in the preferred joint performance.

Who's Afraid of Edward Albee?
by Foster Hirsch

Albee, the playwright of "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?," and other plays, is given a deluxe biographical treatment here from a writer who has known him for almost forty years...and sometimes worships him a little too much.

Albee was adopted by a wealthy, yet emotionless set of parents. His father, Reed, was absent, and his mother, Frankie, was cool and detached. This upbringing, where he was seen more as a possession than a family member, would of course affect his writings. Constantly kicked out of schools, and never graduating from college, Albee turned to writing, his first success being "Zoo Story."

"Zoo Story," a short play about a fateful meeting of two men in a park, received mixed notices from assorted playwrights and critics. Here, biographer Gussow overextends his protection of his subject too much. He dismisses the honest critiques of two playwriting giants- Thornton Wilder and William Inge, because they did not understand or like Albee's works. However, a bland positive response by Samuel Beckett is treated like a Dead Sea Scroll, to be picked apart and treasured. I have read "Zoo Story," and it is wordy and preachy.

Albee's next big success was "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?," which was turned into a powerhouse film by Mike Nichols. Again, Gussow is flagrant in his criticism of someone involved with the film in order to placate Albee, and here, Nichols. The film's screenwriter, Ernest Lehman, is harshly criticized for opening the play slightly, yet just copying Albee's play. The bio's author, and Albee, make a point of needling Lehman's screenwriting credit on the film. Yet, Elaine May copied the French film "La Cage Aux Folles" word for word, adding what could be described as copious scenes at best, then took a big giant screenwriting credit for Nichols' "The Birdcage." Watch both films back to back sometime, it is eye opening.

Gussow also fumbles in his outline of Albee's life. In Albee's less successful years, he is writing weird experimental plays with subjects like a man with three arms, and one play where two of the characters are sea creatures. After mounting all of these failures, Albee is defended endlessly by Gussow, who suddenly contributes an entire chapter about Albee's alcoholism. The alcohol is both a reason his plays were not celebrated, and a defense of the brilliant man.

The entire beginning of the book chronicles the complete lack of love Albee's parents had for him, yet the death of Albee's father is glossed over, barely mentioned. I had to reread the sentence a few times, since no followup is made about Albee's reaction. A whole chapter is devoted to his mother's demise, and her revenge on her own son in her will. More is written about one of his former lovers and honest critics, a frustrated musician. This "A Star is Born" redux is written about nicely.

Gussow does do well in describing Albee's assorted forays into theater, as playwright and director. Dirt about Donald Sutherland and Frank Langella is dished around. The bio's author is honest in Albee's lacking skills as a director, coming to the theater as a playwright and not an actor.

Albee, who prefers to be called a writer who is gay, as opposed to a gay writer, also has kind words for his longtime partner of over twenty years. Albee says a gay writer writes about being gay, whether the work is good or not is moot, since the writer knows the subject and is putting in the final word. A writer who is gay is not tied down to just homosexual topics, and is free to explore society without audiences looking for gay subtexts that do not exist. "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" is a seering look at two heterosexual couples, the sexuality of the playwright is nonessential in light of his characters and their actions.

Gussow wisely keeps talk of Albee's lesser known plays, and the ones readers probably have not read anyway, to a minimum. Albee's triumphant comeback play, "Three Tall Women," is covered extensively. The play is about his mother, and so much more.

Reading this biography will make you curious to seek out some of Albee's other plays, just to see what makes him tick. Over seventy now, he is definitely an interesting man, and Gussow does catch that fact better than anything.

I recommend this book to theater lovers, and any writer who needs a little inspiration.

I'm amazed at some of the one star reviews for this book. (Well, maybe not that amazed. Anyone concerned over whether Elaine Stritch or Carol Burnett won a Tony might best spend their time under a hairdryer reading Cosmo rather than a serious book like this.) Gussow, courtesy of his friendship with Albee, provides priceless insights into the source of many of his works, how they spring from his life, his relationship with his mother. He is even handed in evaluating Albee's plays, carefully explaining why many of his plays failed to please critics and audiences. Albee has been candid with Gussow, and his candor is of great value to aspiring writers. We see the links between personal life and artistic creation. This is a MAJOR study of an important playwright, required reading for all serious theatre folks. The one complaint: Gussow's closeness with Albee, while never seriously compromising the book, does make one sense kid gloves being used from time to time. That aside, this is a riveting look at one writer's life.

This is a competent rather than inspired biography. It offers much useful detail about Albee's plays and is especially good at tracking what critics, friends, cast members, and Albee himself have written about each one. This amalgam of views best illumates "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf." Unfortuantely, the book offers little detail about Albee's lovers or the texture of his sexual and emotional life. For instance, in mid-career, he lived for years with Bill Pennington. We learn only that this man was an interior decorator. We never learn about his looks, background, personality, or influence on Albee; there's not even a photograph. Lacking such physicality, the book often seems arid. Instead of amassing such details, Mel Gussow often prefers to quote long letters. I wish he had gone deeper into Albee's sexuality, to understand how it helped determine the style and force and distinction of Albee's work.

Gussow has assembled excellent materials and extensively interviewed his subject (between 1994 and 1999), but I did not come away from his biography with a sharp or abiding sense of the playwright. Strangely, secondary figures such as composer William Flanagan and director Alan Schneider emerge as more luminous than Edward Albee.

I read this book in my high school English class; I found it to be mindless obscenities from drunken characters. I believe Albee has written wonderful plays (Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?) but this is not one. Here is an idea, don't buy this book, save your money, go to Burger King and observe the dull lifelessness of the teenagers working there. I believe you will get the effect that this book is trying to make.

The American Dream is without doubt the greatest one act play ever written by an American.

This is a poorly written, entirely inaccurate book. But that is fate. Schneider did not have a chance to edit and rewrite it, and the result is chaotic. Had he lived, it might have done greater justice to his tenacity, if not his talent.I read this with chagrin.

If there are directors out there who are at all interested in directing straight plays and especially the works of Beckett, Pinter and the other absurdist, you really ought to listen to what the highly esteemed Alan S. has to say about his experiences. Perhaps more valuable than any text book on directing. I refer back to this book whenever I am preparing an avant garde or post modern play.

This play is not one which many people perform, and there are several reasons. First, from an acting/directing standpoint, the hope of finding talented actors in the appropriate age ranges is a challenge. Second, it can be hard to manage the constant motion and milling about that Albee requires in his work (though to be fair, much of it may have been written by the first director or stage manager for the show). Albee's other works, "Zoo Story" or "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" being the most famous, usually find audiences much faster than a work like this, which as the title implies, is simply "All Over" the place.

Yet it isn't a bad play. It deals with familial strife beautifully and treats most of its characters with the fairness and harsh reality for which Albee is famous. All the characters are named according to their social roles (i.e. The Wife, The Mistress, The Daughter, etc.), and his reasoning is apparent. By dealing with them in this way, Albee can explore how those relationships change, yet stay the same, without ever over-personalizing them.

So what exactly is this unusual play about? Well, a rather famous person--who is of course unidentified--is about to die. Surrounding him are his family, including his Mistress, and his lifelong Doctor with his Nurse. Each of the children is well into their mid-life, while the Mistress and Wife are both over sixty. What marks this play as unique is that both of these latter ladies are able to maintain an amiable kindness with one another, because of their shared love for this unseen man. The Daughter, whose character seems to be both the weakest and the strongest at times, is constantly fighting the presence of the older women, and finding out they have more strength than they let on.

The sweetness of the play is that it knows its subject. It knows death, and it knows the strain that death can put on people. At times it is predictable, but then, so is death. It comes for us all, as the old adage says. And it comes in this play, bag and baggage unloaded on a cast of characters unable to make room for it, but unable to make it leave.

A sharp, sometimes disappointing, but always engaging text, Albee's "All Over" may not be his best, but it is a testamony to his remarkable skill in rendering human emotion on paper.

Edward Albee, in his typical Theatre of the Absurd manner, portrays the death of the American Dream in this theatrical presentation. If you take an interest in Albee or Absurdists in general, I would recommend this play.

I just recently performed "The Zoo Story" by Edward Albee as a small showing, and I can say that the play had a great influence on me. In my opinion, Jerry and Peter are classic literary figures, and "The Zoo Story" itself is a major player in our society's history. The story of a psychotic yet strangely wise man who manipulates an uptight family man to murder him, is both impactive to the audience watching it and the actors performing it. Now the audio recording of "The Zoo Story" (Which I had to study in order to memorize the MANY lines) is not as impactive. The actors don't seem to try to hard in finding their characters and use the same monotone for all of their lines. As well as that, the recording sounds scratchy, and since the recording is recorded off an actual showing of "The Zoo Story," there are loud clomping noises when the actors fall about the stage. All this adds up to a dull listen that almost becomes irritating during the monologues that are spit out by the actors. If you have any interest in "The Zoo Story" by Edward Albee at all (which you should; it's a fantastic play) I would suggest buying the script for it or viewing the play itself. "The Zoo Story" is fantastic, but this audio interpretation is not a real well-done interpretation of it. Go for the play!