Vol. 7 No. 32 April 12 - 18, 2002

Critical Conundrum
Art for art’s sake
by Rich Kane

Yasmina reza’s Art resonates on several levels. It’s about class and the perceptions of class. It’s about having the courage—or stupidity—to speak cold, hard, uncomfortable truths while damning the emotional consequences. Mostly, though, it’s about how we often personalize the art objects we like to such an extreme that when someone’s tastes don’t jibe with our own, it feels as if they’re pissing on our shoes.

Art unfolds in the lofts of three close friends: Serge (Sean Cox), Marc (Vince Campbell) and Yvan (Sean Naughton). Serge has just plopped down a cool 200 thou on a painting by some hoity-toity artist named Antrios. But "the Antrios," as Serge reverently calls it, is an Ad Reinhardt-style, all-white, modern painting with a few generic white lines thrown in for detail. Serge’s purchase completely baffles Marc, who can understand neither the expense nor the artwork. Marc gets pretty huffy about it, too, but he’s the kind of anal guy who’ll pick through a bowl of identical olives before he finds one good enough to nibble.

Caught in the middle is tensed-out Yvan, who’s about to marry into a family he can’t stand and who, much to Marc’s annoyance, actually likes the damn painting. The debate over the artwork devolves into an argument over Who’s Got Good Taste, with Marc and Serge taking out their rage on poor Yvan, who eventually morphs into the living embodiment of the Antrios—just another object to be overly analyzed and picked apart.

That blurring of humanity and culture also pops up when Marc decides Serge has basically replaced their friendship with his new hard-on for the Antrios. Marc’s not just fearful of that potential loss—he’s also upset by the fact that Serge is off buying expensive paintings Marc couldn’t possibly afford, proof that Serge is graduating to a new class status he’ll never be able to join.

The three characters are keen archetypes: art freak Serge represents art makers in general; Marc is the critical, persnickety gatekeeper of taste; Yvan represents the public, that great, faceless body over whose soul artists and critics are eternally warring. This Rude Guerrilla Theater Co. cast portrays them all admirably: Cox does a convincing job with Serge, so in wide-eyed lust with his Antrios that if the canvas had a hole, Serge would stick his pecker through it (giving new meaning to the term "art-lover"). Naughton’s Yvan is a squirmy neurotic, crowned by a wild five-minute rant halfway through the play that deserved the spontaneous outburst of applause he received opening night. Campbell’s Marc, meanwhile, comes off like the uncaring, insensitive, dick- headed jerk he needs to, the one all culture critics—theater, music and otherwise—will identify with.

By ERIC MARCHESE
Special to the Register

French playwright Yasmina Reza says she never intended "Art," her often searing story of how telling the truth to one another affects the longtime friendship of three men, as a comedy. Fittingly, the English translation, by noted playwright Christopher Hampton, ensures that the tragic aspects of the play remain intact. Yet it also provokes some very edgy laughter - often the uncomfortable laughter of recognition.

The Tony-winning play makes for compelling theater in a new staging by the Rude Guerrilla Theater Company. At the Empire Theater in downtown Santa Ana, you can't help but become caught up in the issues Reza raises. Who can say they've never been involved in a similar situation, a disagreement causing a rift with a friend?

Reza gives us three such characters. Serge is cool and analytical and of late a connoisseur of fine art. His closest friend, Marc, values traditional artwork. Yvan is close with both men, blowing with the wind just to keep the peace.

The catalyst that triggers heated discussions and private soul-searching among the three is Serge's purchase of an original canvas by a famed painter of modern art. Serge adores the painting. He loves what it represents and what it makes him feel when he views it.

The canvas is essentially blank, a modernist's study in white. Its painted white surface is undisturbed, save for a few vaguely off-white lines and spots. In the best tradition of French existentialism, Reza uses the canvas as a metaphor for the differences among the friends, the individual lives of each, the nature of life itself and man's existence in the universe. "Art" is, in fact, a superb intellectual exercise masquerading as a character study.

Conflict raises its head in the first few moments of "Art," as Serge proudly displays his new purchase to Marc, reveals its cost (more than 200,000 francs) and its market value, and proclaims his adoration of the piece. Marc studies the canvas and quickly concludes, even while admitting its "degrees of white," that the canvas is "a piece of (dung)." Each man feels completely misunderstood by the other -- and each begins to question the nature of his friendship.

Once Yvan (pronounced "Ivan") appears, "Art" begins to heat up. In Serge's presence, Yvan agrees that the painting is a masterpiece. With Marc, he breaks down and admits that he agrees with Marc, even while he admits that he's "kind of taken" by it.

The story plays itself out as a series of scenes that shift from Serge's apartment to Yvan's to Marc's and back to Serge's. At first, Serge and Marc's disagreements over the painting are of a superficial nature, prompting laughter on our part. But neither man can allow the comments of the other to lie undisturbed. As both men begin to circle around the remarks, they begin to gnaw at the very nature of their longtime friendship.

Pulling Yvan into their swamp of insecurity and troubled self-image only worsens the situation, for, as Yvan admits, he has never wanted the responsibilities of standing firm on any issue, whether it's something as harmless as his opinion of the painting or as crucial as his impending marriage. In tantalizing fashion, Reza lets us peer into each man's mind via brief asides to the audience.

So vehement are Marc's feelings that the canvas is worthless that Reza braces us for some kind of violent impulse toward it - a slashing, burning or defacement. That she backs away from such a drastic scene is the avoidance of a cliché; Reza provides a plausible alternative, and even what many may deem the most overworked device of all: a happy ending.

All of Reza's themes come through loud and clear in Renee Gallo's always-engaging staging at the Empire Theater. As the alliances among Serge, Marc and Yvan shift from scene to scene, Gallo strategically positions her actors in visual illustrations of each man's stance toward the others. Her good casting enhances Reza's basic text, starting with Sean Cox as Serge. The neat, trim, bearded Cox forges a character who's self-satisfied - almost smug - and defiant of Marc's contempt for the painting; clinical, like a surgeon; collected and in control of his emotions. Only the painting stirs his passion.

As Marc, Vince Campbell creates a convincing portrait of a bright, articulate, educated professional whose self- image is shaken to its roots when he begins to feel that the Serge he once knew no longer exists. The character is a bit of a stretch for Campbell, requiring him to show emotional vulnerability - not one of the actor's strong suits. But Campbell creates a character whose tough exterior is a mask for his anxiety. By the climactic scene of "Art," Marc has grown ever more introspective, searching and defensive.

Gallo's conception of Yvan is perhaps more well-heeled than what Reza intended. Like Campbell, though, Sean Naughton burrows into his character and creates intriguing layers. There's never any doubt that Yvan is considered the weakest link in this friendship chain, something he and his buddies have long ago conceded. Tall, thin and bearded, Naughton makes a perfect foil for two sparring pals who each need him in their corner. Yvan's nerves grow increasingly frayed as he sees the one sure thing he's had for years - his bond with his friends - circling the drain. Naughton creates an agony that's palpable, a fragile psyche ready to crack at the slightest strain.

David Gallo's set design contributes to the theme of "Art," furnished completely in white or off-white shades. The vaunted painting is created by Orange County actress and artist Marnelle Ross, while the shifts to and from each man's flat is done seamlessly through a rotating section of the wall.

Richard Tomoguchi

How good can a show be that centers around a canvas that is painted white?
Apparently, pretty damn good. Rude Guerilla Theater Company has been performing, Yasmina Reza’s play, Art, at the Empire Theater.
Inasmuch that it is an intricate, thought-provoking and entertaining script, it would lead you to believe that the script itself would give a head start on the makings of a great show, for any theatre deciding to produce it. However, it may be more accurate that a script this complex may only provide more pitfalls for a theater to fall victim to. Under the directorship of Renee Gallo, Rude Guerilla has produced a show that really takes the script for everything that its got, and hands it to the audience for them to sort out.
If you saw this show last year at South Coast Repertory—then see it again here, it is well worth it. Gallo has taken a much different approach than SCR. Less attention seemed directed toward amplifying the humor that sits here and there in the script, which felt like more of a reward than a drawback. It allowed the truths behind what these three friends were revealing about themselves, not to be written off by a sporadic punch line that would distract from what is actually at hand. This is not to say that the production did not have its successes in the laughs department; it simply allowed the jokes to stay in their places and not dominate the rest of the show.
The three characters in the show come together to discuss a painting that Serge (played by Sean Cox) has purchased for a considerable sum of money. Nothing wrong with that….except the painting is completely white. Cox shows a great range of expression in this role. His spellbound demeanor toward the piece of art is played perfectly to draw a line in the sand--somewhere between enthrallment and bewilderment.
The character of Marc (played by Vince Campbell) is the bigger and more vocal adversary toward the piece. His cynicism is nothing short of delightful in the show. However what he really adds to the show is a depth loneliness and abandonment that goes far beyond the white surface of the canvas, represented best by the final abstract interpretation of the painting of "a man who moves across a space and disappears".
Caught between the two opposing friends is the character of Yvan, (played by Sean Naughton). Though his character immediately seems the role of the pushover required in any typical group of friends, Yvan shows that he can be as ardent as either of the other two on stage. The pace and flamboyance in which he delivers his signature monologue is certain to win any audience over.
What is truly important here is to look beyond, or so far into the painting, as the characters do, to see that this show was never really about the painting at all. It is more about honesty and trust, friendship over time, and the growing pains that sometimes test that friendship. Rude Guerilla has done a fabulous job in harnessing this show and has a cast that can play it to the fullest.