Here’s the first in a new series by theater artists we admire about the lost and hidden spaces that intrigue them. Whether nooks or expanses, worthy of visits or simply drive-bys, the far-flung corners of our towns are full of potential for artistic intervention and trigger our innermost conflicts about space and performance.

Roosevelt Island by Peter Ksander, Designer
I put forward the southern-most tip of Roosevelt Island in the East River.  Past the decaying smallpox hospital the water surges and there is a sort of collection of tiered grass fields with low chain link fences. The forms have the look of some ancient agricultural scheme allowed to go fallow, or earthworks from some ghost army gone soft with age and erosion.  It’s an intense and desolate place — yet surrounded by the city and in plain open sight.  What’s odd is that I don’t usually like theater that takes place outside of architecture.  Plays are a human construct for me and I feel like the container that holds and surrounds a performance needs to have a level of architectural artifice/edifice to frame that construction.  Being out under the weather leaves one exposed.