Jeremy O. Harris seems to be everywhere, but he’s not at our agreed upon location at the agreed upon time. We’re supposed to meet at Dimes Deli in Manhattan at 4:30 p.m.; when he gets there around 5:15, he’s apologetic but easy and breezy in a white Bode button-up and jeans. Harris is undeniably striking: six feet five, long-limbed and lean, with a mane of black hair and an almost tangible magnetism.

“I haven’t eaten all day. I’ve been running around since 8 a.m.,” Harris declares. Soon enough, we’re sharing togarashi potato wedges and splitting a bottle of orange wine. It’s one of Harris’s last meals before he heads up to the Williamstown Theatre Festival , a storied event that started in 1954, where he’ll serve as this year’s creative director. Meanwhile, reviews for his latest p

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