REVIEW: Rousing Rauschenberg

Performance art is a tough sell for most crowds, but especially here in Los Angeles where the market for small, independent theatre is limited, as is the tolerance for anything that deviates from a Hollywood narrative. So the decision to open a 90 minute absurdist performance art piece based off contemporary artist Robert Rauschenberg's mish-mash collages of Americana iconography was a bit of a head-scratcher in conceptualization. And outright dumbfounding in writer Charles L. Mee and director Bart DeLorezo's execution.

bobrauschenbergamerica is presented by the SpyAnt's Theater Company at [Inside] the Ford, a charming little blackbox theatre hidden within the bowels of LA's summer concert favorite The Ford Amphitheatre complex, which is located just east of the Universal Studios theme park. As advertised, the show is a psychedelic hodgepodge of All-American 1960's stereotypes -the dustbowl matron, a roller girl, a hobo, a clean-cut couple, the old fart in a trucker's cap, and, of course, the prostitute-singing, dancing, orating, and at one point even slip 'n sliding across a set comprised of typical American fixtures and adorned with junk.

As you would expect from a show derived from an artist's paintings, visually it is quite effective. Marina Mouhibian's scenic design is striking and clever, the perfect Rauschenberg playground for the actors to play in. However, the show itself, particularly Lee's writing and Lorenzo's interpretation of the performances fails to capture the sparkle and whimsy inherent in the paintings. For the most part, the work is rather dreary. Everything from the narration to the actors' monologues sound more like a Winston Churchill speech than a place of wonderment to explore.

Only a few moments seems to truly capture the fun and fanciful potential that the show has at its disposal. One involving a slippery canvas of alcohol, another involving a guest appearance by a barbershop quartet, and the best of which begging the question "Why did the giant chicken cross the stage?" Aside from that, the rest of the show is rather torturous. Unless, of course, performance art is really your thing, in which case, disregard this review entirely.

As with everything in life, there is a proper time and a proper place. For this production of bobrauschenbergamerica, here and now just may not be right.

Bobrauschenbergamerica runs until Feb 28^th at [Inside] the Ford (2580 Cahuenga Blvd. East Hollywood, CA 90068). Tickets can be purchased by calling (323) 461-3673 (GO 1-FORD) or visiting www.FordTheatres.org. General admission is $20, students with ID and Seniors are $12.

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