Please enter the Opposite of Longing Chamber and state your primary symptom of longing. And where do you feel it in your body? And how much do you feel it on a scale of 1 to 10? And are you running out of time?
The Institute for The Opposite of Longing can cure that thing deep in the pit of your body. But what happens when its owners and operators can’t let go of the little boy they had to give back? And can’t stop reenacting the day they packed his bags and watched him go. Or tucking him in at night or talking to his empty shoes or unpacking the bag of his things they keep hidden. What happens when these are the women who are responsible for curing that thing, that thing you feel deep in the pit of your body?
Please enter the Opposite of Longing Chamber. We can help you. The process is simple.
It’s a brilliant piece full of pain and humor and awkward attempts at soul adjustments. I found it riveting, mournful and hilarious in the most acutely real and absurd ways. It feels a little like "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind."... This strange and gorgeous play is a revelation. The performances is sublime and the writing is astonishing and profound. If you can, see it, if you can’t…try harder. Loved it!!!!
Institute does a masterful job of capturing that hollow feeling of longing in iconoclastic fashion—one of the diagnostic intake questions is whether or not one relates to a certain Japanese haiku. There is also a healthy dose of comedic irony that arises from this attempt to use the scientific method to solve an amorphous, emotional human issue—how could you ever pick a number from 1-10 to describe the pain of missing a child you helped raise?...
the show was beautiful, powerful and deeply moving: the exploration of these women’s loss of a boy they loved deeply, and knowing that he is off there somewhere, growing up without them as his moms anymore was simply heartbreaking.
This piece is beautiful, mesmerizing and sad – I’m not going to lie to you – bring the tissues and open your heart.It can be scary to be this vulnerable but don’t be afraid. Lindsay Beamish and Vanessa Peters have constructed the world of this theatrical experience so expertly that you are able to experience all they go through without having to take the weight of it with you. In other words, without explaining a thing, they make their story very clear and ultimately give us hope for a future where their pain, and whatever our pain might happen to be, is ultimately something we can bear.
The Institute provides only momentary relief — a temporary replacement for what’s most blatantly and painfully absent. It’s an unsettling story told by Beamish and Peters in a creepily gratifying fashion.
It’s a brilliant piece full of pain and humor and awkward attempts at soul adjustments. I found it riveting, mournful and hilarious in the most acutely real and absurd ways. It feels a little like "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind."... This strange and gorgeous play is a revelation. The performances is sublime and the writing is astonishing and profound. If you can, see it, if you can’t…try harder. Loved it!!!!
Institute does a masterful job of capturing that hollow feeling of longing in iconoclastic fashion—one of the diagnostic intake questions is whether or not one relates to a certain Japanese haiku. There is also a healthy dose of comedic irony that arises from this attempt to use the scientific method to solve an amorphous, emotional human issue—how could you ever pick a number from 1-10 to describe the pain of missing a child you helped raise?...
the show was beautiful, powerful and deeply moving: the exploration of these women’s loss of a boy they loved deeply, and knowing that he is off there somewhere, growing up without them as his moms anymore was simply heartbreaking.
This piece is beautiful, mesmerizing and sad – I’m not going to lie to you – bring the tissues and open your heart.It can be scary to be this vulnerable but don’t be afraid. Lindsay Beamish and Vanessa Peters have constructed the world of this theatrical experience so expertly that you are able to experience all they go through without having to take the weight of it with you. In other words, without explaining a thing, they make their story very clear and ultimately give us hope for a future where their pain, and whatever our pain might happen to be, is ultimately something we can bear.
The Institute provides only momentary relief — a temporary replacement for what’s most blatantly and painfully absent. It’s an unsettling story told by Beamish and Peters in a creepily gratifying fashion.
