'A Picasso' Searches for Authenticity

A Picasso

Written by Jeffrey Hatcher, Directed by Charles Towers, Scenery & Costumes Designed by Campbell Baird, Lighting Designed by Brian Lilienthal; Stage Manager, Emily F. McMullen; Dialect Coach, Christine Hamel

CAST: Mark Zeisler (Pablo Picasso), Kate Udall (Miss Fischer)

Performances through May 15 at Merrimack Repertory Theatre   Box Office 978-654-4678 or www.merrimackrep.org

The Merrimack Repertory Theatre concludes its 32^nd season with the regional premiere of Jeffrey Hatcher's play A Picasso, directed by Artistic Director Charles Towers. Mark Zeisler and Kate Udall return to the MRT stage in this two-hander which imagines a confrontation between the famous painter Pablo Picasso and a female officer from the German Ministry of Culture in occupied Paris in October, 1941. Set in an underground vault, designers Campbell Baird and Brian Lilienthal create a sense of confinement and isolation for the battle of wits between the pair who are both fighting for a survival of sorts.

Towers employs a musical phrase of somber chords played by strings to quickly establish an ominous tone. The lights come up on a fidgety man in an overcoat, nervously fingering his hat while he scrutinizes his surroundings and waits. After a few minutes, the sound of footsteps approaching increases the tension before a mysterious woman in black suit and fedora enters the chamber. The two people eye each other warily, and the heavy metal door echoes menacingly as it swings shut. Unfortunately, this moment is fraught with the height of suspense in the play and nothing that follows can achieve the same feeling of danger and apprehension.

Picasso has been brought in to authenticate three of his paintings as genuine for an exhibition planned by the Nazis. It is the responsibility of the officer, Miss Fischer, to document the authenticity in order to prevent embarrassment that would result if forgeries were substituted. However, Picasso figures out that she is dissembling and, to his dismay, learns that the paintings are to be burned as degenerate art works. He spends most of the rest of the play protesting that he is not a political man and crafting credible explanations as to why the works are fake so that he will be able to rescue them from the pyre.

In an argument that resonates in our own political climate, Miss Fischer explains to Picasso that he cannot declare on the one hand that he is apolitical, while asserting, on the other hand, as artists do, that art is important to the social fabric and national culture. Her dilemma is that her job, and probably her life and the lives of her parents, depends on her ability to procure "a" Picasso for destruction, so she cuts a deal with the artist that will allow him to save two of the pieces, as long as she can walk away with one. Fischer also discloses to him that she is a lover of and an expert on his work, having grown up in a household with his paintings on the walls. Suddenly, she lets down her guard, sharing her emotions with him, and becoming more ally than adversary.

This latter turn of events tests the limits of my suspension of disbelief. From the start of the play, Miss Fischer displays the stereotypical rigid characteristics and no-nonsense demeanor of a German functionary. She has the upper hand as the representative of the occupying regime and is in total control of the circumstances. Why would she surrender her position of power? Does she fall under the spell of the narcissistic, charismatic Picasso? It doesn't ring true and it negates the dramatic impact of the situation as it approaches what should be the climax of the play.

For his part, Picasso seems more annoyed than fearful when he finds himself in this subterranean warehouse of artifacts, having been virtually kidnapped from the street by two trench coated thugs and not even knowing if he is under arrest. When Miss Fischer tells him to think like a German, he replies, "How stupid do you want me to be?" That flippancy may work in an exchange between Hogan and Colonel Klink, but not in a drama that aspires to evoke serious suspense.

Zeisler and Udall work hard within the framework to give us three-dimensional characters, but A Picasso lacks the structure of a fully-realized play. It provides rich content about Picasso's background and a few of his pieces and has an interesting premise, but pointed dialogue alone is insufficient to deliver the dramatic punch that one might expect if this scene had ever truly taken place.

 

Photo credit: Meghan Moore (Mark Zeisler, Kate Udall)

 

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