New York City
Arthur Miller wrote BROKEN GLASS in the last decade of his life. In America, the melting pot in which, as Tony Kushner points out, nothing melts, our paralysis in the face of catastrophe is a function of our freedom. We live with restricted country clubs along Long Island Sound, as we do with things that happen “over there” in Homs, or Srebrenica, or Kigali. Miller is the son of Jewish immigrants who managed to avoid the fate of so many millions in Europe by virtue simply of geography. Broken Glass is a play about awakenings, even as paralysis sets in and reality is reflected in a mirror into which we are forced to look.