The Frogs
Summer 2004, Issue 38










A Leap of Fate
by Nathan Lane

Buffoonery & Bathos: Aristophanes' The Frogs
by Charles Rowan Beye

Savoring a Moment:
A Conversation with Stephen Sondheim

The Slippery Art of the Score
by Mark Eden Horowitz

A Picasso Twist
An Interview with Susan Stroman

The Beauty of Survival:
Tim Rollins and K.O.S.

The Big Splash: 1941
by Thurston Twigg-Smith

A View from the Chorus: 1974
by Christopher Durang

How High Should I Jump?:
A Visit with William Ivey Long

The Fearless Bernard Shaw
by Michael Holroyd

The Bright Young Light: Rembering Burt Shevelove
by Larry Gelbart and Dominick Dunne












     Since 1981, Tim Rollins has been working with academically challenged but artistically gifted students from the South Bronx and other “poor” neighborhoods in New York City in a wildly successful art and education program whose main purpose is to turn the kids’ love of the arts into a love of learning, with every single participating student going on to college. Since 1987, artwork by the Kids of Survival (K.O.S.) studio has been exhibited internationally—their signature style is to create hundreds of drawings about a classic text, then to select the strongest images which are then handpainted onto a grid of pages taken from the chosen book. When asked why he chose The Frogs, Rollins replied:
     “In the version we read, as Dionysos rows to Hades, the pond is ringed with thousands of singing, dancing, celebrating frogs. Dionysos cannot understand this. He says, ‘It’s awful here. You should be suffering and crying. You should be tragic figures.’ This is exactly the attitude of mainstream culture toward kids who are born and raised in places like the South Bronx: How can you make beautiful things when there is so much suffering in your situation? We respond exactly as the frogs do: ‘If we do not sing, we shall swell up and die, brek-kek-kek-kek ko-ax, ko-ax.’ We make this work because we must.
     “In 1993, we’d been working on these images but nothing was coming together. Then one of our favorite younger kids, Chris Hernandez, was brutally murdered. He’d just turned fifteen, but he’d been in the group since he was nine years old. We were devastated. We tried to go back to work but we could hardly function, and we ended up losing our studio space. When we were moving, we found Chris’ portfolio. In it were these beautiful, buoyant, hilarious, irrepressible drawings of frog shapes. And his best friend said, ‘This is a way we can get Chris back.’ So we used Chris’ drawings as a starting point. We could no longer wallow in our grief. The work had to be about joy. It had to be about the beauty of survival, which is also the underlying theme of Aristophanes’ comedy. Art is more than just making pretty things—it’s a way to affirm your voice in an awful, hostile environment. This work demonstrates the miracle of all art—Aristophanes is alive, Chris is alive, we’re alive. That life force is fully evident in the imagery that we made together.”—Deborah Artman

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