Red takes place in the late 1950s, when Rothko was painting a series of murals on commission for the Four Seasons restaurant in New York's brand new Seagram Building (where people like Don Draper would dine). In this fictionalized account, Rothko hires an assistant named Ken. Ken is also an artist, although Rothko never treats him as such. He's an employee, there to do what he's told and not offer an opinion. Their relationship develops over time as they work together from nine to five, five days a week. Ken begins to challenge Rothko about his work, his ideas, and his lifestyle. Rothko eventually decides to turn down the commission, return the cash advance, and keep the paintings (they now hang in the Tate Modern in London and the National Gallery in DC, among other places). He releases Ken do his own work and live his own life, while Rothko continues his solitary pursuit of art.
Lyric Arts' Production Director Justin Hooper steps out from backstage to play Rothko, and shows there's a great actor hiding behind the scenic designer. He fully inhabits this specifically tortured artist in a performance that's both physical, raging and blustering and gesturing wildly around stage, and internal, with so much going on inside as Rothko gazes silently at his paintings or contemplates an idea. Brian McMahon makes his stage debut as Ken, and is quite impressive in his first performance outside of a classroom. Whatever nerves he might be feeling work well for the character, who at the beginning of the play is nervous and uncertain around this great artist, both the character and the actor showing more confidence as the story continues and Ken finds his own voice. The two actors work well together in this beautiful dance of a two-hander, dressed in paint-splattered period clothing (that only gets more paint-splattered).
Lakeshore has wisely chosen to stage this play in their tiny black box theater instead of the spacious main theater, creating an intimate and almost claustrophobic experience. It's like we're crammed into Rothko's studio watching him work and muse and rage, which is almost uncomfortable at times but also riveting. Jess Yates directs the 90-minute piece and it's beautifully paced and staged, using all of the limited triangular space which has a cluttered artist bench on one side, a small table in the middle, and a couple of frames leaning against the wall, the wooden floor splattered with many colors of paint. In one scene, we watch these two stretch and staple a canvas onto one of the frames, lean it against the wall, and cover it in a basecoat of dark red in a frenzied dance to music playing on the record player. It's thrilling to watch, and feels so close we're almost in danger of being splattered by paint. Music is a constant companion as Rothko plays classical music on the record player and Ken tries to sneak in some jazz. Scene breaks are marked by the dimming of lights, and lighting in general is important to the plot and beautifully done (including harsh bright lights occasionally turned on to make a point). Two faux windows high on one wall throw shadows of windowpanes on the floor, creating a cool effect. (Costume design by Lily Turner, scenic design by Sarah Brander, props design by Brandt Roberts, lighting design by Lane Bode, and sound design by Torgo.)
This is such a great play I don't know why it's not done more often, maybe it's the challenges of live painting. Which is to say, this is a rare opportunity to see this great two-hander about art, legacy, and the meaning of life, in an excellent production by Lakeshore Players Theatre at Hanifl Performing Arts Center in lovely downtown White Bear Lake. Pro tip: the iconic ice cream shop Cup and Cone is still open for these warm days, but the theater feels like an icebox so bring a sweater for the show after you eat your ice cream.
I'll leave you with a few of the paintings in question, and encourage you to seek out Rothko paintings the next time you visit an art museum.
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| from Rothko's Seagram Murals |
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| from Rothko's Seagram Murals |
