Jewish Theater

Norman Beim – a double treat

Reviewed by IRENE BACKALENICK

For Jewish-American playwright Norman Beim, his play Dreams represents a dual challenge. In its current off-Broadway production, he is not only the playwright but also a major performer. Though Beim has not been on stage for 15 years, he returns to the boards with alacrity, it seems. The show has its June run at the Turtle Shell Theater.

But it is as playwright that Beim shines most brightly. His plays can always be depended upon to offer the unexpected twist. This time around, he offers Dreams, a tale of the two legendary Broadway stars Lily and Archie Lowe (read: Lynn Fontanne and Alfred Lunt). The two are in retirement, but planning a return to the stage. The entire first act is given over their banter and their insecurities – lively but predictable. But, suddenly, as the act closes, Beim delivers an electric jolt. The unexpected happens, giving the act a strong closing.

We cannot reveal that turn of events, but suffice to say that this twist gives the entire second act a whole new area of exploration. Not surprising for any Beim play. His works are invariably sensitive, literate, and captivating. Beim goes on working, turning out the plays. Most memorable, for example, in his considerable body of work, was last year’s Fritz & Froyim, an unusual take on the aftermath of the Holocaust.

Dreams, however, does not have a Jewish theme, but deals with the milieu of the theater, with its struggles, disappointments, and successes. It also says a good deal about human relations – in particular, this marriage. If there is any criticism of the piece, it is that the closing of Dreams peters out, offering an unsatisfying wrap-up.

Under Sheila Smith’s direction, the production features a fine cast – with Carol Emshoff, Carol Lambert, and Gregg Lauterbach, in addition to Beim himself. But it is Emshoff whose performance stands out, giving a strength and a central core to the piece. Emshoff runs a gamut of emotions as Lily, dealing with an unexpected crisis in her marriage. She makes it look easy and natural, but it is in fact first-rate acting.

We all look forward to the next work of the talented and indefatigable Mr. Beim.

Nevelson on the carpet

Whatever else Louise Nevelson (1899–1988) may be – famed sculptor, celebrity, wayward soul, flamboyant personality – she is Jewish. Make no mistake about that. She herself makes it clear – and particularly in the current Edward Albee play, recently opened off-Broadway at the Signature Theatre. (“Yeah, I’m Jewish,” she says with a shrug, and speaking of her family, “We spoke Yiddish.”)

Albee, her one-time friend and neighbor, has long been fascinated with her, and is now paying tribute. Though the play puts Albee in the forefront with its title – Edward Albee’s Occupant, it is in fact all about Nevelson. It is Albee’s attempt to explain her, understand her, follow her artistic development.

Unfortunately Albee succeeds neither in this respect nor in creating a play. Using an interview format, he places two actors on stage – the excellent Mercedes Ruehl as Nevelson and the very competent Larry Bryggman as her interviewer (identified only as The Man). Ruehl, sporting the fake sable eyelashes, the colorful silk caftan, the scarf, the outlandish feathered hat (all Nevelson trademarks), comes on vibrantly. And Bryggman, as foil for Ruehl, delivers an appealing performance.

Not surprisingly this Nevelson gives The Man a hard time. If she bothers to reply at all, she is likely to do so with a shrug, a bitter outburst, a lie. The first act continues in this fashion ad nauseum, offering little information. Albee, for unknown reasons, has dated the piece some years after her death. It is only in the second act, when the two get down to business that some of the biographical material emerges.

Whatever Albee has written, it is not a play. The opportunity for conflict between the well-meaning, seasoned interviewer and his reluctant subject never reaches a boiling point. Her strong personality could have been the stone wall against which he could have thrown himself. But the play’s only real excitement occurs when a backdrop featuring Nevelson’s work comes to life.

The Nevelson story cries out to be told on stage. And what better narrator than a noted contemporary playwright? But Edward Albee’s Occupant is decidedly disappointing, despite the credentials of the author and potential of his subject.

As to that story, it is known that Nevelson was born Leah Berliawsky in Kiev, came to this country as a child, and settled with her family in Rockland, Maine. There, as an outsider in a WASP community, it was inevitable that she turn inward, ultimately seeking art as a way of coping with life. But that, apparently, came late, after an unhappy marriage, the birth of a son, a mental breakdown, an alcoholic problem. In mid-life she ran to Europe, to study art with Hans Hoffman, but was thrown out of his class for lack of talent, as he saw it.

So much for facts. Details of her life are hard for any one to discover, since Nevelson invented herself as she went along. But this much is true. In mid-life she discovered the use of wood, the urge to collect detritus, the inspiration ultimately to forge it all into single, brilliant, breath-taking works of art. In later life, her star rose steadily, due possibly to her flamboyant personality, but certainly to her art.

We can only hope that one day the real Louise Nevelson on-stage drama will be written.

Updated 6/27/08