THE ART OF MAKING ART
An extravagant art purchase causes a major upheaval among three old friends in Yasmina Reza’s Art, at Berkeley’s Ashby Stage through April 9.
David Sinaiko and Benoît Monin
The setup: former college buddies Serge, Marc, and Yvan meet regularly for dinner, drinks, and discussion. One day Serge (Benoît Monin) announces that he has bought a large all-white painting by a reclusive but esteemed artist named Antrios—for the skyscraping price of 200,000 euros. His pragmatic friend Marc (David Sinaiko) dismisses it as little more than white excrement, while Yvan (Woody Harper) tries his diplomatic best to find something redeeming in it.
David Sinaiko and Benoît Monin
Attempting to justify the purchase, Serge brags “Three of his works hang in the Pompidou,” and mentions that he could instantly resell it for a ten percent profit. None of this has any effect on Marc or Yvan as the three of them disappear down a nasty rabbit hole of self-defeating argument. They disagree about almost everything: the nature of friendship and the value and meaning of art. Ultimately, they question their own sanity.
David Sinaiko, Woody Harper, Benoît Monin
It’s all very high-minded if mean-spirited discourse—very French and deeply intellectual as they parse every word and analyze, re-analyze, and self-analyze each thought and gesture. Translator Christopher Hampton did a spectacular job converting Reza’s original into English while sustaining her precision and nuance. The three actors are all magnificent—intentionally overacting in many scenes to convey the ludicrous drama unfolding onstage.
Benoît Monin
Director Emilie Whelan adds a thumping punk-rock song-and-dance prologue not seen in other productions, purportedly to bulk up a backstory that Serge, Marc, and Yvan were once part of the same rock band. But time has marched on: Serge is now a wealthy dermatologist, Marc is an aeronautical engineer, and Yvan is a veteran of the textiles industry working as a clerk in a stationery shop owned by his fiancée’s uncle.
Woody Harper
Yvan has clearly been left behind by his comrades, and exhibits characteristics of an overgrown student, including his little backpack and his too-small bike helmet (costumes by Alice Ruiz). He’s deeply troubled by his impending marriage, and by ongoing disputes with his mother. He addresses all of this in a heartrending monolog mid-way through the play—a monolog that provoked spontaneous applause on opening night. Mr. Harper is brilliantly vulnerable in the role—he digs deep and comes up with gold.
David Sinaiko
The only one of the three with a French accent, Monin is commanding as Serge, who launches barbs at Marc about his wife Paula, about whom we know nothing else. Marc is taciturn and unrelenting in his revulsion at the painting and at its mind-boggling price. The three turn each other inside-out as the disagreement about art becomes an excuse for airing all kinds of previously unacknowledged personal grievances—in places, uncomfortable for the audience, but also embarrassingly comedic in the style of Edward Albee’s Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?
David Sinaiko
Will their friendship survive this enormous disruption? That’s the undercurrent propelling Reza’s dissection of the intrusion of big-time art into the lives of otherwise ordinary friends. Another propelling force is her trenchant depiction of class distinctions: Serge has attained the upper class, Marc is from the managerial middle class, and Yvan is a low-level worker bee. Such distinctions are prominent among the French, despite their national pretense of egalitarianism.
Woody Harper
It’s a characteristic shared by Americans. We like to imagine that we are a classless society while worshipping wealth and power. Reza also exploits class distinctions in her glorious God of Carnage, a recommended requirement for all people interested in theater. Like Art, it’s an incredibly compelling peeling-away-the-veneer-of-civility story.
Benoît Monin
Monochromatic paintings are nothing new or extraordinary. Ellsworth Kelly created many of them, often in unusual shapes. American artist Robert Ryman made a career of white paint—describing his work as “exploring the essence of painting.” The uncredited artist who created the large “Antrios” for the Shotgun Players included plenty of texture (“impasto”) visible from anywhere in the theater. Many people are only vaguely aware of the excesses of the top-tier art world. Those with curiosity are directed to Don Thompson’s enormously entertaining and informative book The $12 Million Stuffed Shark: The Curious Economics of Contemporary Art.
Benoît Monin, Woody Harper, David Sinaiko
Set designer Randy Wong-Westbrooke could not have done a better job of bringing Serge’s spare-but-elegant apartment to life—a perfect fit for the compact Ashby Stage. Props designer Emily Summers deserves props (sorry!) for her fall-apart sculptures, collapsible chair, and unstable lighting fixtures. Lighting designer Gabriel Rodriguez keeps our eyes fixed on the Antrios when we are not otherwise entranced by the outlandish antics of Serge, Marc, and Yvan.
“What’s wrong with us?” Serge asks as the interpersonal turmoil begins to wind down. “You’re all assholes!” shouted a woman in the audience—only one of many hilarious incidents in this compelling Art.
photos by David Boyll
Art
Shotgun Players
Ashby Stage, 1901 Ashby Ave. in Berkeley
ends on April 9, 2025
for tickets ($10-$40), call 510.841.6500 ext 303 or visit Shotgun Players
Barry Willis is a member of the American Theatre Critics Association and president of the San Francisco Bay Area Theatre Critics Circle
