You look up one day and you hate the whiskey, and you hate the women, and you hate the piano. But that's all you got. You can't do nothing else. All you know how to do is play that piano. Now, who am I? Am I me? Or am I the piano player? |
[Reviewing the play's Broadway premiere for The New York Times, Frank Rich wrote that in] Ma Rainey, ... sends the entire history of black America crashing down upon our heads. |
[Wilson may never see the marquee or sit in the theater that carries his name. Last month, in an interview with the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, he announced that he was dying of liver cancer, with three to five months to live. He disclosed it with the type of plainspoken grit one of his heroic characters might admire.] I've lived a blessed life, ... I'm ready. |
[With the cycle done and] Radio Golf ... a war between coffin makers and undertakers, Death taking a holiday, Queen Victoria and the Platters, Benny Goodman and a magic radio. |