The interactive hybrid piece allows the audience to bid on art while enjoying dinner
I would never have guessed that participating in an art auction would be more contagiously competitive than playing sports. To be honest, the idea of sports has never attracted me, and neither does bidding on them, but at Beneath the Gavel, the thrills feel real. I raised my paddle into the air to bid higher and higher. I crawled on the floor to collect more money. I felt consumed with a burning desire to get that several-million-dollar painting. And, I felt all this, despite knowing I was bidding on what was merely a printed poster, that the “celebrity” artist was fictional, and even the “money” I was paying for the art was fake.
 |
| Barbara Strongin in Beneath the Gavel |
Beneath the Gavel, by Bated Breath Company, originated at New Britain Museum of American Art in Connecticut; the production also enjoyed an off-Broadway run at 59E59 Theatres in Spring 2017, where I first saw it. The latest rewrite has become more concise in telling the story of an artist who rose high in the art world through a love affair with his gallerist. Despite omitting some campy scenes, like a ballet of 20th-century artists, which were much beloved, it remains a poignant commentary on the ways of the art market. Bringing this interactive show from a traditional theater to the lavish red-gold-and-purple interior of Feinstein’s/54 Below Super Club aided in building an atmosphere of exclusivity and made me feel like a part of the deep-pocketed, high-brow auction crowd.
After descending a long dark wooden staircase enveloped in scarlet and gold wallpaper, I was handed a paddle and an envelope with play money, instead of the usual program. As the audience took their seats at the tables, the company members distributed silly plastic glasses in bright colors. I reached for some big apple-green star-shaped frames, reminiscent of Bar Mitzvah paraphernalia. It was soon time to throw them on when our guest of the evening, Haddie Weisenberg (Debra Walsh), appeared and we all sang her “Happy Birthday.” The show had already started.
The opening scenes rapidly intercut between the birthday party of the art dealer, Haddie, and the speech of the auctioneer, Barbara Strongin, in which she gave us background information on Ms. Weisenberg. As the show switched back and forth between the party and the auction, the role of the audience also shifted back and forth. We transitioned from being birthday party guests to auction attendees about to bid on the items from Haddie’s collection. Such is the cruelty of the art world: those who might claim to be your friend will become vultures when your art goes on sale.
The party is just a prelude to Haddie’s life. In a series of flashback scenes intertwined with the auction, we follow a passionate affair between her and her protégé artist, Daniel Zeigler (Jamie Roach). In their relationship, the personal is closely intertwined with the professional. From the moment the trembling Daniel serves a martini to his powerful patron, it was hard to tell what the matriarch of the art world was attracted to more: his talent or his looks.
The love affair unfolds across several scenes, accompanied by Anna Stefanic on the piano. Hearing Eric Satie’s melancholic Gymnopedie No.1 and Gnossiennes No.1 and No.3. made me a little sleepy, or was my drowsiness a result of the dull depiction of romance between Haddie and Daniel? In the play, the supposed power couple is ruined because Daniel becomes increasingly more commerce-oriented and eventually casts away Haddie as his official dealer. But this comes as no surprise since there is hardly any chemistry between two lead actors.
Daniel and Haddie aren’t the only ones that inhabit the world of Beneath the Gavel. Lively comedic vignettes about the art market archetypes are also mixed in with the tale of romance, betrayal, and artistic corruptibility. We meet a rich but uneducated collector, his cautious buyer, a pushy art-dealer, and an awkward art handler. And, of course, the queen of smoke and mirrors, the auctioneer Barbara Strongin. Inviting Strongin, a 38-year veteran of the international fine art auction industry and a woman of immense magnetism, to play herself is one of the best acquisitions Beneath the Gavel has to offer. She playfully reveals some of the secrets of auction mechanics to us, only to use them on the happily-fooled audience a minute later. It was like watching a talented magician perform an illusion as Strongin set up two bidders to compete with each other by manipulating their sense of pride, or as she took fake “chandelier bids” from a nonexistent bidder in the back. Her strong presence and subtle sarcasm held the show together.
Overall, Beneath the Gavel left an uneven impression. The overly serious romance between Daniel and Haddie didn’t quite stand up to the farce of the art-world shenanigans. Mara Liberman, the writer and director, tries to put art in the context of not only the art market but also the personal lives of the people involved. Despite the beautiful concept, the tragic and comedic elements interfered with each other, often with rough transitions. For instance, there was a moment when ensemble members shot money into the audience. A lot of us enthusiastically dove under the tables to collect some extra cash, some doing it unashamed, while some did so a bit reluctantly. But then, a romantic scene between Haddie and Daniel followed immediately after. As non-mercantile as I would like to be in this tender moment, it was difficult not to start counting the unexpectedly acquired funds in my hands.
The auction in Beneath the Gavel is the only truly interactive component, while the rest of the show takes place predominantly on stage. This hybrid format was fine, but I wished there was some pre-show interaction with the actors. Since they were distributing sunglasses anyway, they might have approached us “in character” already. This would allow for a more seamless and fun introduction into the auction world, which, as we learn from the show, is a lot about socializing. Beneath the Gavel is great for cautious audiences, consisting of those who are curious about interactive theatre but don’t want to roam around and rub shoulders with strangers. On the night when I attended, about eighty percent of the audience looked to be over fifty years of age, which is a rather unusual proportion for an interactive/immersive show. And this is wonderful since the niche is hardly occupied. Interactive theatre is often thought of as something catering to younger audiences, and it’s true for a lot of productions. Intentionally or not Beneath the Gavel provides an opportunity for the older patrons to play, without leaving the comfort zone of traditional theatre for too long.
(This review was published on NoProscenium.com on 5.8.19)
