by Jenni Morin
Enveloped by the darkness, an ember burns. Mark Rothko, played by Andrew Thornton, surveys his works as if to take an inventory. A young man in a suit enters, waits awkwardly at the entrance until daring to interrupt the artist’s thoughts with a knock. This awkward apprentice (Ken, played by Rodman Bolek) is motioned over to contemplate a painting. “What do you see?” Rothko asks. “Red.”
Enveloped by the darkness, an ember burns. Mark Rothko, played by Andrew Thornton, surveys his works as if to take an inventory. A young man in a suit enters, waits awkwardly at the entrance until daring to interrupt the artist’s thoughts with a knock. This awkward apprentice (Ken, played by Rodman Bolek) is motioned over to contemplate a painting. “What do you see?” Rothko asks. “Red.”
The Playhouse's production of Red. Photos by Siggi Ragnar. |
Mark Rothko seems to be a shallow artist, narcissistic, with
an esoteric philosophy about the transcendent nature of his work. He quotes
philosophers and goads his assistant about not knowing what he needs to know to
be an artist. Thornton and Bolek handle the transition seamlessly from an awkward
employer/employee relationship to a comfortable, at times contentious,
mentor/mentee. The continuous narrative consists of incessant dialogue with
poignant pauses carefully crafted by director Tim Hedgepeth. It is in these debates
we discover Rothko’s attachment to his paintings reaches beyond mere vanity, as
he sees them as an extension, a reflection of himself. He rejects being reduced
to a noun, “a Rothko,” and in turn insists that red is not a color, but a
thing, and that his paintings have a pulsating movement that keeps them alive.
As the play progresses, a paternal figure emerges. Rothko,
in his own detached way, takes his assistant under his wing, teaching him about
his great influencer Nietzche and how colors are more than pigments on canvas. Rothko
expresses his fears of his works feeling hurt for being regarded in a way other
than he intended, orphaned without their father even as the series should have
strength in number. He talks about their vulnerability to natural and florescent
light.
After years of philosophizing about his work, pontificating
on tragedy and the ever-pulsating force of his paintings, the assistant
counters asking if anyone is worthy to even see his art. It is also Rothko’s
assistant who challenges his obsession with black and its clichéd meaning of
death and how the color threatens to swallow his works and his life.
As his commissioned works approach their installation,
Rothko is confronted by the commercialization of his success. His assistant likens
him to his art forefathers, the cubists, when Rothko is distraught over the pop
artists plotting to kill, committing patricide against, abstract expressionism.
Hamlet references abound. Rothko’s
deteriorating confidence in his pomposity and fear of eventual irrelevance
overwhelms him as he is accused of selling out.
Red is a
commentary on art, a metatheatrical discussion about the necessary coexistence
of art, philosophy, culture, music and theatre. As theatre often holds a mirror up to
society, Red begs a two-sided mirror
where, if the light is just right, the artist beneath is illuminated from
within the work; his pulse becomes that of the painting.
The Playhouse’s production of Red
allows a focus on the artist’s relationship with his work rather than the enigmatic
philosophy behind it. By resisting stereotypes of the painter and his
apprentice, the actors and director do the script justice and are complimented
by discernible musical choices and purposeful lighting. The performances of Thornton and Bolek are haunting and resonate well after the stage goes dark. Red challenges its audience to look beyond the medium of the work
to the inherent reason and message and asks, "What do you see?"
Red opens at The Playhouse Cellar Theatre on Friday, Jan. 25 and runs through Feb. 17 with performances at 8 p.m. on Friday & Saturday and 2:30 p.m. on Sunday. For more information, visit www.theplayhousesa.org.
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