'Sight Unseen' Suffers Identity Crisis at Everyman

◊◊◊ out of five.

In a lot of ways, Donald Margulies' play Sight Unseen is like the artwork at the center of its plot.  The artist (playwright) has thrown down his ideas on canvas (the page/stage) and leaves it up to the patron (audience) to decipher the deeper meanings of the content.  I guess it is true-beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  Much of the play is spent with the artist defending/gloating about the wonders of his "art", and I know for sure that many of my colleagues will be falling all over themselves to find the right "ooh" and "ahh" words to heap praise on an "important" work.  I find myself more in league with another character in the play who describes this artist's work thusly (I'll paraphrase for a PG audience): "You crap on canvas and sell it."  Fortunately, the superior artists of this fine company are able to rise way above the mediocrity of the script and offer an evening of thoughtful, artistic entertainment, in spite of the material.

Margulies' play tries to be too much to too many camps of thought, causing what may best be described as an identity crisis.  Is it a relationship drama, filled with witty barbs which generate laughs but leave a bitter after taste?  Yes, as evidenced by the central relationship between Jonathan Waxman (Paul Morella), the artist, Patricia (the superb Deborah Hazlett), his former muse and lover, and Nick (the excellent Bob Rogerson), Patricia's husband.  Both men fight for position in Patricia's life, even though Nick married her and Jonathan hasn't seen or spoken to her in years.  Is it a lesson play about the value of art-private or public?  Yes.  Jonathan is a top-selling artist making his European debut with a show in London, but (naturally) a part of him, and thus his show, is missing, only to be found in an early painting Patricia has hanging over her fireplace, much to the chagrin of her husband.  Is it a play about failed pasts and lack of closure? Sure!  Why has Jonathan come back after all these years?  To gloat (yes), to reminisce (yes) to see what's left of his muse (you betcha)?  And finally, is it about being Jewish in a subversively anti-Semitic world?  Indeed.  Why else have a German art critic (Karen Novac, making her Everyman debut) fire inappropriate questions at a Jewish artist who says being Jewish has nothing to do with his art, but trots out his religion at the most opportune times?

Yes, there is a lot going on in this play.  Too much, if you ask me.  It is full of too pat coincidences, heavy-handed symbols (the fireplace painting), heavy-handed soliloquies (Waxman goes off on tangent after tangent with his interviewer only to tell her to focus on the art), and all wrapped up in an ill-used writing device; the scenes are presented out of chronological order.  This device can be quite effective, adding much tension and shock value as twists and turns are revealed to an enraptured audience.  Here, unfortunately, Margulies gives too much away in beginning scenes, so that we have pretty much figured out what happened before, and it is abundantly clear that the interview scenes are the most present, even without a time-line in the program.  In fact, I can honestly say that the big confrontation scene between Patricia and Nick prior to Jonathan's arrival was much better in my imagination than what was actually played out (Jonathan's arrival started the play; the confrontation was the third scene).  I wondered throughout if I'd like the play better in order after all.

And so this brings me to why I recommend that you see this production in spite of the play.  It is simple and somewhat ironic: the artists.  Top to bottom, behind the scenes and on-stage, this is one hell of a company.  Helmed by Daniel De Raey, a director/educator with enviable credits, the play has a fluidity and a rigidity that is complex and simple at the same time, a savory mix of opposites that make the visual artistry make up for any shortcomings in the plot.  Aided by the typically ingenious settings created by that local master of the craft, Daniel Ettinger and the paint quality of Jay Herzog's lighting, even De Raey's scene changes are staged and full of meaning (actually, they reveal as much about these characters as any three pages of dialogue).  Ettinger opens with a very sterile art gallery, paintings far upstage, with almost vast space in front, dominated only by wall paper that has the artist's signature embossed all over it.  As the play shifts scenes, characters appear in back-lit hazes as they watch the set pieces move in or disperse, depending upon the action of the play.  Instantly, the frigid art gallery becomes a warm, if claustrophobic, English country kitchen, as simple as the gallery was smart.  Perhaps most shocking about the staging and design is that during the interview scenes (empty gallery, two chairs and a small table) the play becomes even more claustrophobic, as Jonathan Waxman himself fills the space with record-breaking pomposity and self-indulgence.

This is definitely an actor's play.  Each part is juicy and (obviously) requires a lot of anyone cast in it.  And here, the casting is nearly flawless.  Ms. Novac, with a superb and marvelously intelligible German accent (Nancy Krebs is the dialect consultant, and brava to her!), like any decent reporter, moves in on her subject, like a cat ready to pounce on a mouse.  That she can stand up so believably to the largeness that is Jonathan Waxman is a tribute to her performance.

Paul Morella, as Jonathan, has a tough task.  He has to be self-absorbed, manipulative, sincere, emotional, dependent and bursting with ego all in two hours' time.  And he needs to balance that with perhaps a smidge of likability.  Morella is exceptional with the ego, manipulation and self-absorption.  In fact, so good that one hopes he isn't really like this in life.  He seems to have forgotten the likability, because he left me cold in a scene designed to leave us emotional at the act one curtain, and in the final scene in which we see why artist and muse bond.  I have to believe that the actor and his director decided to go with all out bad guy, which makes sense (especially considering how very good Morella is with it) given all but those two scenes.  And those I blame on the playwright.  Audiences hate being obviously manipulated. Again, had the play been done in order, this might have stuck out less.

Nick is a man of few words, who prefers the past (he's an archeologist) and is right on with all of the questions all but the most ardent art snobs are dying to ask artists, like how can you get millions of dollars for paintings that don't exist yet (hence the title)?  Bob Rogerson, in that role, has to be exactly what the playwright had in mind when writing it.  His performance is exciting and endearing and done with few words and most intelligent use of pauses this side of Pinter.  His facial expressions and movement, always economical and fraught with possible meanings make his performance mesmerizing and wholly satisfying.  We are on his side immediately, long before we find we have good reason to be there.  In his final showdown with Waxman, he explodes with succinct but murderously venomous delivery, spitting out "you are a Wax Man" with such ferocity that the tension and imminent danger are palpable.  This is male posturing and confrontation as art.

What really holds this show together, though, is the masterful performance of Deborah Hazlett, who stunned last season in Betrayal, and did similar work to this in the previous season's Candida, which also benefited from her ability to rise way above whatever material she is handed.  Her Patricia is a bundle of controlled nerves, a veritable primer on how to guard yourself against a skillful enemy.  One senses immediately the unfinished business between Jonathan and her character simply by watching Ms. Hazlett move about the set and use her expressive eyes and smile.  What really gives her performance an edge that might be missed by a lesser actress is that when she does finally confront things, you are sure she will ultimately win, no matter the sacrifices she's had to make or the difficulty she's had letting go of the past.  Ms. Hazlett is truly a master at creating strong yet vulnerable women, never once resorting to easy histrionics or overt bawling.  Never less than first-rate, she certainly gives theatergoers their money's worth with this performance.

Get to the Everyman Theatre to celebrate to topic of the evening: art.  The company has certainly put some gorgeous paint on a rather unstable canvas.

PHOTOS: TOP to BOTTOM: Bob Rogerson, Deborah Hazlett and Paul Morella; Paul Morella and Karen Novac; Paul Morella; Bob Rogerson; Deborah Hazlett.  All photos by Stan Barouh.

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