William
Saroyan International Prize for Writing
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Adam
Rapp, Nocturne
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About
the Author

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At
34, Mr. Rapp embodies in many ways that classic New
York archetype: a writer on the cusp, a prolific young
playwright who seemingly spends every waking hour hacking
away at his computer in his East Village apartment,
trying to perfect his voice and pay the rent. When he's
not writing, he's at the theater, tending bar and listening
in to the audiences' instant critiques.
A prolific reader and writer who came to both habits
well after puberty, Mr. Rapp tells stories that encase
classical themes -- class and envy, ambition and alienation
-- in blunt terms and in modern settings. (The New
York Times, May 14, 2003) |
Adam
Rapp has been the recipient of the 1997 Herbert & Patricia
Brodkin Scholarship; a fellowship to the Camargo Foundation
in Cassis, France; two Lincoln Center Lecomte du Nouy Awards;
the 1999 Princess Grace Award for Playwriting; a 2000 Roger
L. Stevens Award from the Kennedy Center Fund for New American
Plays; a 2000 Suite Residency with Mabou Mines; and the
2001 Helen Merrill Award. His plays have been produced at
Victory Gardens in Chicago, The 24th Street Theatre in Los
Angeles, The Juilliard School, The American Repertory Theatre
in Cambridge, Massachusetts, Berkeley Repertory, New York
Theatre Workshop, and the Bush Theatre in London. A graduate
of Clarke College in Dubuque, Iowa, he also completed the
Lila Acheson Wallace Playwriting Fellowship at Juillard.
Nocturne was awarded Boston's Elliott Norton Award for Best
New Script as well as Best New Play by the Independent Reviewers
of New England. It was chosen as one of the ten Best Plays
of 2000-2001 (the annual Chronicle of U.S. theater). Rapp
is also the author of the novels Missing the Piano, The
Buffalo Tree, and The Copper Elephant. He lives in New York
City. (Adam Rapp, Nocturne. New York, Faber and Faber
2002)
Critics
/ Reviews
"'There's
a finality in fact,' says the narrator of Adam Rapp's grief-laden
monologue Nocturne, a stunning confrontation with
truth that spares neither the character or the audience.
The fact, simply stated, is this: "Fifteen years ago
I killed my sister." So says a young man identified
only as the Son, who accidentally decapitates his sibling
in an auto accident and then attempts to come to terms with
what he has done. This reconciliation forms the heart and
soul of Nocturne, a startling, unnerving work of
art that fiercely pushes the boundaries of theater. The
play...is dense, almost novelistic, in its approach to a
personal horror story. Nocturne is also intensely
lyrical, musical in its sounds and in its silences. Make
no mistake. Rapp is an original -- a distinctive voice unafraid
to be too descriptive..." (Michael Kuchwara, Associated
Press, http://www.broadwayplaypubl.com/arapp.htm)
To
the literature of the survivor we can now add Nocturne,
playwright Adam Rapp's haunting, exquisitely detailed story
of an intimate and devastating personal holocaust. The 90-minute
monologue is a fiercely direct yet subtle and poetic chronicle
of stunning loss, profound guilt, emotional disintegration,
numb endurance and a slow but never entirely complete rebirth.
"Fifteen years ago I killed my sister," says the
32-year-old writer who narrates the story. It's an instant
confession that signals the brutality of fact that will
mark this work by the Chicago-bred, New-York-based, Juilliard-trained
playwright, who also is known for his young adult novels.
The scene of the "crime" that Rapp describes is
a quiet street in suburban Joliet, where the narrator, then
a 17-year-old boy with a summer job and a gift for playing
the piano, accidentally ran over his beloved 9-year-old
sister when the brakes on his used car failed to function.
The story itself is extreme and violent, but the telling
of it is methodical, quiet, deeply introspective and so
true that you may wonder if the whole thing is autobiographical.
(There's no record that this is the case.)What is clear
is that Rapp is an exceptional writer. His dense, imagistic
piece may seem more like a short novel than a drama, and
also may raise questions about just how much the listener,
as opposed to the reader, can absorb. But it is enthralling
nonetheless, and hugely seductive in its suggestion of the
way years can pass in slow lock step as mourning works its
way through the human organism. (The Chicago Sun-Times,
April 16, 2002)
Reading more like a short story than a play, Nocturne
describes in unnerving detail how a family's life can
be violently rearranged in a pulse beat. A vividly rendered
account of loss and its aftershocks. (The Atlanta Journal
and Constitution, May 30, 2003)
Playwright
Adam Rapp has the sensibility of a poet. In his new, one-man
play Nocturne, he has approached the subject of personal
loss and its consequences in an oblique and subtle way.
In the guise of a straightforward re-telling of a painful
tragedy, he burrows into the heart of human relationships
to show different ways in which people respond to the loss
of a loved one. Like the images he invokes, which resemble
the colors that emerge when light is refracted through a
turning crystal, the insights come from different angles.
By the end of the play an understanding of sorrow and grief
gives way to a sense of hope. In its own, quiet way, this
play is life-affirming
(Larry Campbell, http://www.culturevulture.net/Theater2/Nocturne.htm)
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Last modified:
August 4, 2006 |