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If we may be serious for just a moment: Playwright Wendy Wasserstein died this morning of cancer. She was 55.

We've actually seen inexplicably few of her plays — no Heidi for us, no Rosensweig — but she was an indisputable force in the theater world, the first woman to win a solo Tony for best play and probably the most important modern female playwright. Unquestionably, she was a great New York character, and it's always sad to see one of those exit, especially at such a tragically young age. We find ourselves thinking mostly now of Wasserstein's family — her six-year-old little girl, Lucy Jane. Our condolences, too, to Wendy's brother, Bruce Wasserstein, the owner of New York magazine. In her memory, we'll refrain from making fun of this week's New York today — even how the fancy-schmancy redesigned website hasn't yet been updated with the new issue's contents. That restraint is, of course, the greatest tribute we can pay.

Wendy Wasserstein, Chronicler of Women's Identity Crises, Dies [NYT]