Influenced by big ideas and Old Master craftsmanship, abstract expressionist painter Mark Rothko (1903-1970) regarded his color-saturated rectangles as manifestations of ecstasy and doom. As he tells the young acolyte in the loosely biographical play, "Red," "There's tragedy in every brushstroke." A voracious drinker, smoker and thinker, Rothko spurned passivity in all forms, ultimately turning his demonic negativity inward. He committed suicide by slashing his wrists.
In “Red,” Atlanta actor Tom Key evokes the intense egomania of Rothko as a sort of paranoid madness that emanates from the very pupils of his eyes. As Key’s Rothko listens to a haunting piece of music in the opening scene of John Logan’s play at Theatrical Outfit, we hear the clanking sound of the elevator outside his studio. The noise signals the arrival of the young man who is to become Rothko’s assistant and punching bag. But it could also double as a harbinger of tragedy, the sound of a fragile mind on the verge of snapping.
Under the direction of David De Vries at Key’s downtown theater, the play that riveted the West End and swept the 2010 Tony Awards gets a bristling, tightly wound workout, appropriately laden with portent, shadow and precious little light. The suggestion that Rothko was a vampire — famished for red, scarred of the light and poised to attack — is hard to miss. When Rothko says he fears that the black will eventually overtake the red, he’s not just talking about paint on a canvas. He’s fighting for his very soul.
In the course of the 90-minute one-act set in the late 1950s, Rothko torments the young acolyte, Ken (Jimi Kocina). Himself an aspiring painter, Ken is the target of the artist’s narcissistic rants on everything from Nietzsche and Freud to Warhol and Pollock. According to the set-up, Rothko is working on a commission for the Four Seasons restaurant at the Seagram’s building on Park Avenue. Taking pot shots at Picasso and Dali, he claims to be repulsed by commercialism but is not opposed to pocketing the cash. Just a shade hypocritical, yes.
Key’s vivid style of acting suits the role. Even if you don’t always believe it’s Rothko behind the owlish glasses, walrus mustache and on-again, off-again Northern accent, you can’t help being mesmerized.
There’s some pretty heavy-handed posturing on the part of the playwright, however, in the form of foreshadowing and a tendency to recycle the well-trod conceit of the anguished, suffering artist. Even Ken comes burdened with his own, barely credible baggage; his response to the whiteness of snow and the redness of blood is personal. Yet such melodrama cheapens the story.
Visually, the production is heavenly. Set designer Lee Maples creates a magnificent, canvas-strewn studio, which is sumptuously lit by Joseph A. Futral. Composer Kendall Simpson’s sound design evokes the chaos and occasional solace of Rothko. Linda Patterson's costumes are appropriate to the story.
Rothko fits in the continuum of modern art from Van Gogh to Jean-Michel Basquiat, an intensely bright flame whose work connotes struggle and sacrifice. Or in a word: drama. Yet there is an eternal radiance at the core of his art that requires us to reflect, to go deeper. Whatever subconscious turmoil he harbored, you can find a peaceful and poetic space at the center. This play illuminates the fury beneath the calm. It is imperfect like the man, but a wholly remarkable portrait nonetheless.
Theater review
“Red”
Grade: B
7:30 p.m. Wednesdays-Saturdays. 2:30 p.m. Saturdays-Sundays. Also 2:30 p.m. Feb. 15. Through March 11. $15-$35. Theatrical Outfit, The Balzer Theater at Herren’s, 84 Luckie St. N.W., Atlanta. 1-877-725-8849, theatricaloutfit.org
Bottom line: A nice portrait of the raging Rothko.
About the Author
