Obviously the big (in every way) event of the conference’s first day was “The Iceman Cometh,” a painstakingly rich version of the O’Neill classic. Opinions will naturally differ – hey, everyone’s a critic — but no one can deny the size of the accomplishment, or the continued truth of O’Neill’s sledgehammer attack on the addiction of the pipe dream, saving lie, willful delusion, whatever you call it, in personal life as well as civic.
In the less memorable part of the first day we were welcomed by Chicago’s commissioner of culture, who reminded us this was our 39th annual gathering and the fourth in Chicago – the latter, naturally, a record (though only if you don’t count all those mini-meetings in N.Y.). Waking up bleary-eyed to face Day 2, I feel I’ve already been here a long time. — Chris Rawson