Red - Berkeley Rep's latest show - was an excellent production awash in brilliant language, with a splattering of philosophy and myth, framed in a young artist's development, and centered on the ramblings of an eccentric, self absorbed, intelligently troubled man - all great reflections for deep considerations of light and dark on the canvas and in one's life and soul.
As Rothko says "'Pretty.' 'Beautiful.' 'Nice.' 'Fine.' That's our life now! Everything's 'fine'. We put on the funny nose and glasses and slip on the banana peel and the TV makes everything happy and everyone's laughing all the time, it's all so goddamn funny, it's our constitutional right to be amused all the time, isn't it? We're a smirking nation, living under the tyranny of 'fine.' How are you? Fine.. How was your day? Fine. How are you feeling? Fine. How did you like the painting? Fine. What some dinner? Fine... Well, let me tell you, everything is not fine!!
But this play certainly is fine. Upon our return to the Berkeley Rep for Red we were pleasantly entertained, enraptured really by the script, acting, art, direction and action.
John Logan, whose had many outstanding contributions to film, has parlayed his linguistic talents to the stage in a fine representation of the non-representational painter Mark Rothko. Each word is artfully placed on the verbal canvas - biting, snappy and poignant. The language is a juxtaposition effusing insight about life, pain, joy, myth - against Rothko's mind whose portrayal is in harsh criticism and abstraction on canvas. He simply can't relate to people easily or nicely.
David Chandler bespeaks the struggle in his expressions, movements and voice, monologue and in dialog, sometimes reserved and subtle flowing like paint from something bright into the dark crescendo of explosive anger.
In a 2-person play that works beautifully on one set for 90 minutes without intermission, the direction succeeds at riveting one to the depth, simplicity and subtlety of the action.
Rothko, shown by Chandler, burns internally around his own struggles to produce art for whom he sees as the mindless masses who consume without appreciation a period's art, including the gallery owners, critics, and consumers who Rothko sells to. In creating his art he even hopes to somehow ruin the experience of the viewer if the painting is not taken in the right environment 'temple' and as the painting - anthropomorphized - would have the viewer see it. Chandler shows how Rothko views his work as his children with conviction and the difficulty of letting them go into the cruel world he sees. It's a key dissonance in the play.
Still Chandler becomes the internal struggle without cracking, he holds the tension together and keeps it electric, showing the movement from brightness to shadow - like all good painting - evoking a staid, bland tiredness and yet encompassing an enlivening, sharp spark of living with a hard view of life where the son takes over the father. And as he says it's a life in which the abstract expressionists squashed and stomped out the cubists. Much to his own demise he foreshadows the fading of his own movement as Pop Art begins to put out the Abstract Expressionists - something brought to his attention by his assistant.
The production highlights the outstanding portrayal of Rothko's assistant by John Brummer who is literally beaten with words and pigment until he gains his own distinct voice about art in one of the key turning points of the show.
Rothko tells him: "When I was your age, art was a lonely thing: no galleries, no collecting, no critics, no money. We didn't have mentors. We didn't have parents. We were alone. But it was a great time, because we had nothing to lose and a vision to gain."
It's confidence in his own vision - prodded by Rothko's constant query "What do you see?" over and over and over - that moves Brummer to push back with honesty about new growth, new life expressed in art and at how Rothko's parody, paradox, pontificating and past have perpetuated turning himself into a dinosaur moving toward an extinction in art and death.
Brummer shines in his role especially in revealing his personal pain. His delivery and timing are perfect. And In a moment of opening to Rothko his tragedy is unveiled begrudgingly and with fear. It is this tragedy's portrayal in word and hopefully in art that beckons and is a key teaching point of Rothko; something spoken about beautifully by Ken, and hinted at continually but never materialized and seen visually on a canvas. Only in his background painting of the canvas can we see his expression as he paints with Rothko. It left me wanting to see that canvas by Ken that is tantalizingly brought onto stage wrapped in paper.
Without question this painting/play - which absorbs the white of snow and life into the death of black and the explosion of red (stop signs, cherry, Santa Claus, Satan, and slit wrists) - is gripping and worth a view. read more