FEATURE STORY
It was last November, Mark Mavilia says, when he and three friends in Washington, D.C. rendezvoused for dinner at Ghibellina’s, an Italian gastropub in Logan Circle “specializing in Neapolitan-inspired pizzas and craft cocktails,” says the online restaurant guide “Popville.”
Hold the pizza! Mavilia, who is art director at the Association of American Medical Colleges, couldn’t wait to tuck into the pasta-bolognese, his favorite dish. “In my opinion,” he says, “it’s the best in the city.”
Or rather was the best. When the foursome assembled outside the restaurant, they were disappointed to find Ghibellina’s had closed. “They had shut down for good,” Mavilia says, adding: “It was not boarded up. Just a note on the door thanking patrons for their support. I will surely miss the bolognese.”
Barnard theater department’s ‘Stupid Fucking Bird’ is a magnificent gut-punch of a play Barnard Theatre Department / Screenshot from Zoom “Stupid Fucking Bird,” the Barnard theater department’s final production of the semester, is a biting meditation on the meaning of intimacy, art, and self-worth. Full of explosive performances and psychedelic visual effects, this modern adaptation of Chekhov’s “The Seagull” is a triumph of virtual theater. By Sophie Craig | December 14, 2020, 2:52 PM
Content warning: This review references acts of self-harm.
The characters stir impatiently in their green-screen squares. Mash runs over her lines. Nina puts on earrings. Conrad lights a cigarette. Staring down the barrel of his webcam, Conrad informs the audience that the play will begin as soon as someone types in the chat: