Under the Skiff--10/10

Every piece of theatre involves manipulation. Sometimes these are literally physical manipulations of the audience, like in De la Guarda. Sometimes they are manipulations of audience participants and audience—an interesting case, as many times the audience participant is actually a secret co-conspirator of the actor, complying (usually) with instructions whispered under the actor's breath. Sometimes the manipulation happens before the show begins. I remember a clown show I worked in, where we received a very favorable review, but the review just didn't quite have the perfect quote. It did, however, say, “This is clowning unplugged.” The company hotly discussed whether or not we could use the quote on posters in the following fashion: “This is clowning...”! We decided against. These are the manipulations that first come to mind. But the theatre experience itself is also a manipulation: of time, of space, of bodies, emotional states (both the actors' and the audience's) and of expectations. Ultimately, the audience wants to be manipulated. But, paradoxically, they also want to feel safe and they don't want to feel stupid, which can happen if the performer(s) manipulate too quickly or inconsiderately, or without building a base from which to deviate. This is not to say that a performance should start particularly slowly, it just means that thrills and surprises are best received from friends and not from total strangers.

“Under the Skiff” provided another variation on the theme of manipulation by virtue of a certain delicate vulnerability. I was delightfully duped a number of times by a concave quality in both of the performers that misled me to think that they were unsure of where they were going. Nobody likes a clown (or date, for that matter) who apologetically asks for too much. This was not the case in this duo show, but both Maia Bieler and Jenny Sargent exhibited such sensitivity and patience in the generating of their themes that I almost started to worry. Was the gentleness a symptom of timidity on the performers' parts? And then BAM! the theme would coalesce into a brilliant piece with great emotional depth and sublime transformations They did this to me more than once. It takes a lot of integrity to stay in that vulnerable void for so long, especially when you know what you have in store for the audience.

The topicality of the show was very interesting. It was set in an immigration office. As I said in a previous entry, topicality does not necessarily get one any closer to “meaningfulness,” but it doesn't deter one from it either, much opposed to popular belief. Oftentimes, especially for those of us who tend to wax metaphysically on our art, topicality is eschewed as sell-out, as if addressing prominent cultural or social issues was somehow antithetical to “true” artistic expression. It is true that “issue plays” are often bad. But it is equally true that theatre in general is often bad. The last gasp of of so-called “purity”: the idiosyncratic expression of the self, justified because it's “for real” is no guarantee that you get anything more present, genuine, or profound than a 30-second political TV spot. (And sometimes the TV spot is better because at least it's over in 30 seconds!) However, it is also true that sometimes an artist chooses to address a certain topical issue because s/he feels very strongly about it. It may be an issue of such importance to the artist that s/he cannot afford to conceive of the issue in anything but black and white terms. And therein lies the problem. Art is much more interesting (to me, anyway) when it asks questions rather than answers them. This might explain why those who still find the reading of plays an enjoyable pastime still read some of Brecht's plays, but many fewer have ever done so with the scripts of the San Francisco Mime Troupe. (Not that that fine company does bad work, it's just a question of priorities—are you trying to mobilize or you trying to stimulate some kind of dialectical process?)

The treatment and the topicality work very well in “Under the Skiff” Masterfully so. The double-image of the vulnerability of the immigrant in the foreign INS office and the clown in the theatre opens a huge space for contemplation. The situation allows for naïve, beautifully crafted flights of fancy to reverberate in thick, dulcet tones, and it allows for some modes of expression that I don't normally see in a clown show.

A few highlights:

There is an extended bit of business involving taking a number and waiting for it to be called. Bieler's clown enters, accustoming herself to the unwelcoming office. She discovers the ticket dispenser. She takes a ticket. Satisfied for a moment, she realizes that if one is good, multiple tickets are probably better, and soon she has exhausted the machine. Sargent's clown then enters. After she realizes there's a ticket machine, she then realizes there aren't any left. We see Bieler counting her multiple tickets, calling out the numbers. The treatment and escalation of the scene from there presents a wonderful numero between the two clowns. I wont spoil the ingenious way Sargent wins this in this numero, as you can see for yourself on Sunday at 530pm, but it is great. The give and take between the actors and the relaxed space they provide between each other allows the sequence to echo every public-anonymous experience we've had where we wait as strangers: the DMV, the doctor's office, the stalled subway, the courtroom, the government office.

There is a brilliant sequence involving “citizenship tests” which starts gently and escalates into play, and then turns into a nightmarish interrogation. This transformative moment was especially striking, as it then transformed again into an almost documentary theatre-type of piece, as Sargent's clown recounts her experience coming to the country. The sequence also has a marvelous ending, which I wont spoil.

A recurring object theme involved work with newspaper boats. It is poetic, silly, playful, full of perspective shifts, and comes to bind the show together into a sort of emotional metonymy that includes us all. The use of this boat theme might be my only point of criticism. I felt that more could have been done with the boat theme. (For example, the audience comes to understand that the setting of the show is not a landed INS office, but, rather an INS detention center on a boat.) But, perhaps that kind of an extension carries a risk. If any unifying theme gets too strong or literal, the seduction and play of the piece might well quickly evaporate.

This show is HIGHLY recommended.