‘Art’ by Yasmina Reza. Translated by Christopher Hampton. Directed by Courtney O’Connor. Scenic Design by Shelley Barish. Costume Design by Chelsea Kerl, Lighting Design by Elmer Martinez. Sound Design by Adam Howarth. Presented by The Lyric Stage Company of Boston, 140 Clarendon Street, Boston, through March 16.
By Shelley A. Sackett
The French playwright, actress, novelist, and screenwriter Yasmina Reza has a special talent for creating dialogue and characters that simultaneously focus inward on the complexities of interpersonal relationships and outward on the demands and mores of contemporary middle-class society. ‘Art,’ now enjoying a magnificent run at Lyric Stage Company, premiered in Paris in 1994 and took both London’s West End and New York’s Broadway by storm. It won Olivier, Tony, Molière, and every other major theatre award and has been packing in audiences worldwide in 30 languages ever since.
The plot is deceptively simple. Serge (Michael Kaye), Marc (John Kuntz) and Yvan (Remo Airaldi) have been friends for 15 years. Serge is a successful dermatologist. Marc is an aeronautical engineer and Yvan has spent his life “in textiles.” Unlike his friends, his professional life has been a failure and he has a new job as a sales agent for a wholesale stationery business. He’s engaged to marry his boss’s daughter in a couple of weeks.
When Serge spends an extortionate amount of money on a modernist painting by Antrios that is all white with three white stripes, his close friends are not just baffled but deeply rattled. Like an earthquake, Serge’s purchase shakes the bedrock of their friendship and sends aftershocks and tsunamis in its wake.
Marc is appalled to hear that Serge had paid two hundred thousand francs for “a piece of white shit.” Serge argues that the painting, created by a reputable artist (“he has three paintings in the Pompidou”) is worth its hefty price, but Marc remains unconvinced. The two draw verbal swords, and the temperature in the room rapidly rises as the thrusts and parries turn nasty and personal.
Both break the fourth wall, addressing the audience with what they really think. Serge mocks Marc, one of the “new style of intellectuals” who are enemies of modernism yet know nothing about it. Marc is upset on a deeper, more individual level. His friend has done something he cannot understand or relate to. He is hurt and untethered. “It’s a complete mystery to me, Serge buying this painting. It’s unsettled me, it’s filled me with some indefinable unease,” he admits. Worst of all, Serge seems to have lost his sense of humor. Marc can’t bear the thought of not sharing a laugh with Serge, even though it is over an act Serge himself committed.
Overwhelmed by the perceived seriousness of the situation, both Serge and Marc confide in Yvan about their disagreement. Yvan, who is dealing with his own conflict over his forthcoming wedding, tries to remain a neutral peacemaker, giving each just enough of what they want to hear while avoiding firmly taking sides. To Serge, Yvan is noncommittal, only admitting that he does not grasp the essence of the painting. To Marc, Yvan laughs off the price tag, but suggests that the work is not quite meaningless “if it makes Serge happy.”
Serge’s shuttle diplomacy is a failure. Instead, each digs in his heels deeper, and the clash escalates to all-out war. Objective art appreciation shifts to subjective, petty, tactless attacks. At the heart of the matter is the fact that these two really care about each other and this schism wounds them both. “What I blame him for is his tone of voice, his complacency, his tactlessness. I blame him for his insensitivity. I don’t blame him for not being interested in modern art, I couldn’t give a toss about that…,” Serge says. In an aside to the audience, Marc admits that, bottom line, his feelings are hurt. “What kind of friend are you if you don’t think your friends are special?” he laments.
Yvan’s vacillations are gas on the flames of his friends’ conflict. When neither Serge nor Marc succeeds in their goal of manipulating Yvan to their side, they turn on Yvan after he is late for dinner. Not even a Moth StorySLAM-worthy monologue of an excuse (Airaldi deserved a standing ovation) can dissuade Serge and Marc from attacking Yvan for being, well, Yvan.
That a male friendship could become unglued over a provocative painting rather than a love or property rivalry underscores the way Reza deftly peels this delicate onion to reveal the kind of profoundly felt emotions more usually explored among female relationships. These three ask deep and heady questions, revealing their innermost private selves in their answers. They are brutally honest, especially when they know the truth will sting. Yet, when all has been said and done, the underlying bond they share withstands even this most violent rupture.
Airaldi imbues Yvan with the kind of heart, humor and self-acceptance reminiscent of Jonathan Winters at his best. Kaye’s Serge is nuanced; he’s snooty and disdainful one minute yet insecure and lonely the next. As Marc, Kuntz has the difficult job of hiding his fears and vulnerabilities beneath a frosty veneer of supercilious superiority and furious frankness. All three actors give flawless performances, the kind that make 90 intermission-less minutes fly by.
Shelley Barish’s sleek, contemporary set mirrors the painting’s self-conscious minimalism. Chrome and steel benches adorn a simple platform of white tiles bordered in pale gray. The tone is both monastically sterile and peacefully Zen.
Kudos to Courtney O’Connor for her pitch-perfect direction. Recommended.
For more information or to buy tickets, visit https://www.lyricstage.com/
