Shut Eye (review)

Shut Eye. Conceived and created by Joseph Chaikin and the Pig Iron Theatre Company, Painted Bride Art Center, Philadelphia. 14 September 2001.

SHUT EYE, Pig Iron Theatre Company's collaboration with distinguished American director Joseph Chaikin, displays this young collective's skill in creating evocative physical images that resonate with both depth and humor. The company, Le Coq-trained and movement oriented, has made a name for itself internationally and as one of Philadelphia's premiere experimental theatre troupes. The collaboration occurred over last summer with Chaikin working with the group in the beginning stages of development. The piece was then prepared for performance by company director Dan Rothenberg.

The theme of the piece is sleep and sleeplessness, a subject that Chaikin has explored in other incarnations, most notably with the legendary Open Theater's NightWalk in 1973. SHUT EYE, like most of Chaikin's work with the Open Theater and later with the Winter Project, has a collage-like structure. Images are arranged in overlapping sequences whose logic owes more to music and the visual arts than to dramatic literature. This technique allows for a pleasant confusion over whether we are watching dreams or fantasies, or representations of reality. The performing is often stylized and presentational with occasional sections of naturalistic behavior. The considerable skill and grace of the company seem to blur the distinction between acting and dancing, and sequences flow and ebb with carefully choreographed dynamics.

There are several worlds in SHUT EYE, each of which has its own distinctive pace and tone. A newly married couple, which includes a partner who is exhausted by work and back pain, unsuccessfully attempts in an initial scene to be intimate and attentive. In another, the frenetic corporate world of Pillow Tech International—seething with ambition and greed—provides an opportunity for Pig Iron to demonstrate its highly developed comedic skills. Finally, a patient lies in a coma in a hospital room undisturbed by emergency procedures or anxious visitors. Throughout these stage worlds, an insomniac wanders with a kind of slow desperation searching for a mythic sleep clinic.

One of Chaikin's key concepts, derived from Viola Spolin and developed with the Open Theater, is that of transformation. An actor can change rapidly from one state of being to another. A scene or image can transform into an entirely different psychic environment. The technique is commonplace now but is still exceedingly useful in suggesting a reality that is discontinuous and unstable—like the world of sleep and sleeplessness. Pig Iron embraces this aesthetic and choreographs remarkable transitions from one image to the next. In SHUT EYE, much of this is done with a hospital room divider that is used to wipe away one world and reveal another. The screen, on casters, seems to glide and whirl around the stage of its own volition, depositing some actors and absorbing others. It takes on aspects of character and intention, at times sinister and often very funny, depending on the speed and dynamic with which the unseen actors manipulate it. Other objects in the piece— among them a mop and bucket, a pillow, and a ladder—take stage and become characters, animated by the performer's deft touch.

There are a number of songs and musical numbers. Some are subtly incorporated into lush movement sequences, and others are blatantly presentational. There is a Gilbert and Sullivan-like section whose goofy energy is slightly disarming but ultimately delightful and funny. James Sugg's pulsing accordion accompaniment drives many of the scenes. He sings in an affably open manner that invites the audience into the often strange world of SHUT EYE.

SHUT EYE is entertaining, well crafted and expertly performed but lacks the contribution of a competent dramaturg. Chaikin collaborated with the late Mira Rafalowicz during the 1970s and 1980s, and her skill at rearranging structure and excising sentiment was an invaluable contribution. There is a sweetness to some of the images in SHUT EYE that a more rigorous dramaturgical eye could prevent from...