WHAT IS ART? premiered at the Geva Theatre in Rochester and again at the Court Theatre in Los Angeles. Circle Rep almost put it in their season, but felt 10 characters made it too expensive for their budget. Many people who have read it have thought it was one of the funniest plays they have ever seen. Others (newspaper critics) have called it offensive and insipid. Now you can make the call!
As the play takes place in "real time", there are only two scenes - Act I and Act II. So I have broken it up at places that seem appropriate.
WHAT IS ART?
By William Leavengood
ACT I
The apartment of Akril L'Atexio, an
abstract artist. There is the front
door, a door to the studio, and another to
the coat closet. A hallway
leads to the bathroom and bedroom. An open
doorway leads to the
kitchen, which has a service-way
connecting it to the living room.
Beyond the kitchen is a back door to the
stairwell.
As the play opens, we are in pitch
darkness. We hear the door being
unlocked. We see the back lit siloquettes
of two men. One immediately
moves into the room, knocking over an
umbrella stand. He begins feeling
around the walls for a light switch. The
other speaks first:
MAN'S VOICE
(in hushed tones)
Art? Don't!
ART'S VOICE
Where are the lights?
MAN'S VOICE
I don't know. Stop... Art!?
ART'S VOICE
Stop what?
MAN'S VOICE
Moving!
Art finds the light switch, flips it back
and forth to no avail.
ART'S VOICE
The electricity must be off.
MAN'S VOICE
Forget it, then, let's go...
(Art continues feeling around)
Stop moving!
ART'S VOICE
Why?
We hear Art run into a table. A heavy
object crashes to the floor and
breaks.
MAN'S VOICE
Great. What is it? Is it broken?
ART'S VOICE
I don't know.
MAN'S VOICE
What do you mean?
ART'S VOICE
It
may have been in two pieces to
begin with... My God.
MAN'S VOICE
What?
ART'S VOICE
I
think I'm holding a penis.
MAN'S VOICE
(beat)
I'm over here.
ART'S VOICE
No, this is large...
I mean, it's
not real. It's marble, I think.
MAN'S VOICE
Art, if anyone in the building
sees me--
Art's elbow hits a remote control on the
coffee table, turning on one
of half a dozen exotic lamps/lighting
fixtures.
ART'S VOICE
Close the door.
The Man moves in and closes the door.
The room has a bizarre decor, including a
designer sofa and a low 6 X
6' coffee table. Prominently displayed on
one wall is an abstract
painting, nothing but a canvas with a
large stain-like blob of brown on
it. On another wall is a white canvas with
a tiny dot of red at its
center.
A cart holds several cans and tubes of
paint. Tastefully positioned
around the room are penis sculptures of
various sizes. One of the
larger ones now lays on the floor, broken.
Also illuminated are the Man, FRED SPAWN,
30's, a nervous, likeable,
easily manipulated young fellow and ART
ANGELEY, 30's, a charming,
handsome n'er-do-well, with a knack for
fabrication and manipulation.
Art begins hitting buttons on the remote,
each button turning on a new
light source.
ART
These lamps are amazing, aren't they?
Art takes out a compact and begins
applying a false beard. Fred
examines the broken sculpture.
FRED
Can this be glued?
ART
It's not valuable, Fred.
FRED
How do you know?
ART
They sell them at the mall.
FRED
What mall?
ART
Fred, you're being paranoid.
FRED
I'm
letting you into a tenant's
apartment. It's a felony!
ART
It's not a felony. You're the super.
FRED
That matters?
ART
You were given keys, right? It's a misdemeanor.
In an emergency, we'll say I'm
the exterminator.
FRED
No, Art, I changed my mind.
ART
You're letting yourself get paranoid.
FRED
Don't say that!
ART
I'm sorry, Fred. You asked me to
tell you. Are you being
rational?
Think about it.
While Fred thinks about it, Art finishes
applying his beard.
ART
(continued)
So what kind of things does this
guy paint?
FRED (points)
On the wall.
Art looks at the blob painting.
ART
God, that's amazing.
FRED
(surprised)
You like it?
ART
What? No, it just looks exactly like
this stain I have on my carpet.
FRED
(looks at painting)
He's considered a
genious.
While holding the beard to his chin with one hand, Art
peeks into the
next room.
FRED
No! No going in the studio.
Fred closes studio door.
ART
Fred, I'm not going to hurt anything.
Art has some spirit gum stuck to his
fingers and is about to wipe his
hand off on the brown splotch canvas.
FRED
Don't! Alright, forget it!
ART
What? I'm sorry.
FRED
Get out!
ART
Did I upset you? How?
FRED
You almost wiped glue--
ART
It's spirit gum, Fred. 94% biodegradable.
FRED
Still, Art--
ART
I'm sorry. Would you rather
just call the whole deal off?
FRED
Yes.
ART
I can't let you do that to yourself.
You and my sister would just be
too great together.
FRED
You
think I believe you for a second?
ART
That's what she said.
FRED
What? You mean she said something?
About me?
ART
(quoting)
"Ohh! Fred!"
FRED
What did you say that made her say that?
ART
"You remember my friend, Fred?"
FRED
Wow. So there really is a chance.
ART
(of course there is)
A chance?!
FRED
Alright... But I want a date
this time.
ART
You got it.
FRED
A date your sister actually knows
about. I'm tired of "running
into you two" at the movies.
ART
My mother's coming to visit next week.
Meg would love to have someone
help her show Mom the town.
FRED
I don't even know your mother.
ART
She's just like Angela Lansbury.
FRED
Will you help me break the ice?
ART
I can't. I have a soft tissue
seminar.
FRED
Soft tissue?
ART
My Mom thinks I'm a chiropractor.
It's a long story.
FRED
But it would be clear to Meg? She'd
know it was a date?
ART
Fred, what else could it be...?
The beard's right?
FRED
Yes.
ART
What else?
FRED
He's a recluse, I don't know. I've
seen him twice in three years.
Art dons glasses.
ART
You
said glasses.
FRED
Elton John.
ART
What?
FRED
Elton John glasses. He's bought like
three pair at auction.
ART
Why?
FRED
I don't know, he's nuts.
Art looks around, and begins adorning his
glasses with two plastic
cherries from a fruit bowl.
FRED
And he has a strawberry on his forehead.
ART
A strawberry?
FRED
Like Gorbachov.
(illustrating)
Except it's not a whole continent,
it's just, like, Bermuda.
Art begins pacing, thinking.
ART
(rythmically)
Okay... Okay... No make up...
FRED
There's paint.
ART
No good. We'll be going at it,
she might rub her breasts against
my forehead.
FRED
(envious)
Really?
ART
Okay... Okay...
(he stops pacing)
Fred, have you ever given anyone a hickey?
FRED
No way, Art.
ART
On the forehead. Hurry up, she's
supposed to be here at ten.
FRED
No way.
ART
Fred?
FRED
No way.
ART
Fred?
FRED
God, Art, is there anything you won't
do to get laid?
ART
Do you think I'm happy about having to do this?
I dream of the day I can look into the eyes
of a woman I'm obsessed with and say,
"I am
Arthur Angeley. Love me."
FRED
Then why don't you? Just approach her like
a normal human being.
ART
She's not interested in normal human
beings, Fred. I tried, she acted
like I wasn't there. Miss Ranquet
is cultured, she's intellectual,
she's
beautiful. She's French, fred!
I have nothing to offer someone like
that. I'm not smart, I'm not rich, I'm not
industrious. The only tool nature gave
me to survive is an ability to lie.
Do you want me to survive, Fred?....
Then help me use my tool.
FRED
This is just another infatuation.
ART
No, Fred. Look! Have you ever seen
me like this?
FRED
About a dozen times.
ART
No, not like that. Like this!
(he fruitlessly tries to articulate)
My heart is... My hands are...
My head feels...! I want to die
in the arms of Veronique Ranquet.
Do you understand?
FRED
Yes. I feel the same way about your sister.
ART
Really? Perfect. Pretend I'm Meg.
FRED
I am not going to suck on your forehead.
ART
Just this one favor.
FRED
I've been doing you favors for six months.
ART
(illustrates with his fingers)
And I've gotten you this close
to winning over my sister. Fred, Meg does
whatever I tell her to. If you want
her in your future...
FRED
Okay!
Fred reluctantly puts his lips on Art's
forehead and sucks for a few
seconds, then moves away, appauled.
ART
Come on! You've got to suck harder than
that, this needs to last.
Fred wipes off his mouth and, mustering
his courage, charges Art and
gets a lamprey-like grip on his forehead.
Just then, VERONIQUE RANQUET
enters, unnoticed. She is tall and
gorgeous and mysterious, and watches
the activity, slightly perplexed.
ART
(continued)
Harder... Harder. I want it to
last all night!
VERONIQUE
Hello?.... Mr. L'Atexio?
Art and Fred break apart. Sure enough, Art
now has a pronouced
strawberry on his forehead. He whips on
the fruit-adorned glasses, and
adopts a passable French accent.
ART
Miss Ranquet? Pardon... I am
Akril L'Atexio.
VERONIQUE
It is my honor to meet you.
(to Fred)
And you are...?
FRED
On my way out.
(to Art)
Well, thanks. What fun!
ART
This is my old friend, Frederic Spawn.
VERONIQUE
Ohh. He is your long time companion?
FRED
I'm the super.
ART
The Super Brain Massuer of Soho.
VERONIQUE
I am not familiar with this.
ART
When I am having the creative block,
Frederic massages the inspiration
out of me.
VERONIQUE
Is that what you were doing?
FRED
Yes.
VERONIQUE
Perhaps you could do the same
to me.
FRED
(sounds great)
Sure.
When?
ART
Ah-ah, beware. Frederic is incredi-da-bly
expensive.
FRED
Well, not incredi-da-bly.
ART
Voila, si-si! I will give you a session
as a gift. Next week sometime?
VERONIQUE
Merci.
Art starts to lead Fred out.
VERONIQUE
Dee Wraith?
Veronique picks up the broken sculpture.
ART
Uh, no. De... How do you say, Frederic?
FRED
De Tool... ala Fractura in Twa.
VERONIQUE
No, it is Dee Wraith. Her signature
is carved.
ART
Oh! Yes.
Veronique strokes the smooth marble.
VERONIQUE
You don't need to hide this. I know
she is your lover.
ART
She was, yes.
VERONIQUE
Was?
ART
I threw her out.
VERONIQUE
But I heard you were madly in love.
ART
If you love something... throw it out!
Oui?... Dee was too...
(stroking the sculpture)
...predictable.
VERONIQUE
Dee Wraith is a diagnosed manic-depressive.
ART
But a predictable one. Then this...
(re: to broken sculpture)
This is what broke the camel's hump.
Her birthday gift to me, and
in a fit of rage...
VERONIQUE
What a waste.
FRED
How much?
VERONIQUE
Quoi?
FRED
How much of a waste.
VERONIQUE
The dollar value? Insignificant.
FRED
Ahhh.
VERONIQUE
Perhaps twenty-five thousand.
FRED
AHHH!... Excuse me.
ART
So, I understand you were at
Meg Angeley's party asking
about me?
FRED
Meg had a party, and you didn't
get me an invitation?
ART
Pardon
moi. It was for the art world, only.
(to Veronique)
Frederic has a "thing" for Miss Angeley.
VERONIQUE
She is very pretty, and has
an impressive little gallery. I'm certain
she has many suitors interested.
ART
As you must,
Miss Ranquet.
VERONIQUE
Veronique.
ART
Veronique.... Frederic, I'm so sorry.
You have to be
going?
FRED
Where?
ART
Home.
FRED
Oh,
yes. I guess you won't be staying
long, either.
ART
Just until I finish my current project.
FRED
(for Art's sake)
I'll use the back door
to the stairwell. That way I won't
be seen by the other tenants.
VERONIQUE
You live in the building?
FRED
Just nine floors away.
VERONIQUE
(surprised)
In the basement?
ART
The penthouse. C'est la vie, Frederic.
Fred exits through the kitchen and the
back door. Veronique is
surveying her surroundings.
VERONIQUE
You're a true eccentric, as the
rumors say.
ART
A true eccentric. Oui.
She stops at the brown splotch painting.
VERONIQUE
This is magnifique...
What is it called?
ART
You don't know?
VERONIQUE
It is not in any of your books.
ART
Well... It is called... "Carpet Stain".
VERONIQUE
(intrigued)
"Carpet Stain." What is the stain?
Blood? Passion?
ART
I think it is coffee.
VERONIQUE
Coffee. Yes, I see. The addictive stimulant
of mankind... filling me... driving me...
(she moves to the blank canvas)
Why is this here?
ART
Looks like a blank canvas, doesn't it?
VERONIQUE
It is you famous self-portrait.
Veronique points to a tiny speck of red in
the center.
ART
Ah! Oui! There I am!
VERONIQUE
This painting changed me. I, too, felt
like a lone speck of color in a barren,
white
wasteland. Please, may I touch you?
ART
Yeah, sure. Go ahead.
Veronique turns away from Art and gently
caresses the speck of paint
with her finger.
VERONIQUE
How wonderful it must be. To have
a gift. I can only recognize talent in others.
ART
But that is so much better.
To have no gift, and manage to
succeed...
(demonstrating with matchbook)
To be born without a match, and yet,
figure out how to light a fire anyway?
That takes true creativity. I admire it
more than anything.
VERONIQUE
You
are too kind, Monsieur L'Texio.
ART
Akril.
VERONIQUE
Akril... Those glasses hide your face.
She removes them before Art can protest.
VERONIQUE
(continued)
My God...
ART
(concerned)
What?
VERONIQUE
Why do you have to be beautiful?
ART
I don't know.
VERONIQUE
You can drop the accent, I know
you are American.
ART
I am? You do?
VERONIQUE
Born in Newark, New Jersey.
I'm sure it was Sid Stole's idea.
Hiding your background.
ART
Sid?
VERONIQUE
He will do anything to inflate the
value of his clients' work.
ART
Sid.... That Sid... That... Sid.
(shakes his head)
You know a lot about me, Vera.
She moves close to him.
VERONIQUE
Two years ago, I was a bored
heiress in Marseilles. But snce I
experienced my first piece of
L'Atexio, I have been insatiable.
ART
Wow.
VERONIQUE
Yes. I can be obsessive. That day,
I decided it would be my life's quest
to meet you.
ART
Woah.
VERONIQUE
Yes, I can be impulsive. My therapist
said if I didn't learn to control
it, it would get me into trouble.
ART
(breathing
heavily)
Did you learn to control it?
VERONIQUE
No, I moved to Bagdad and joined
a cult.
ART
Woo.
VERONIQUE
Yes, I can be reactive. But each day I awoke,
hungry to have my senses filled
with
your genius. So I flew to
America.
ART
Whee!
VERONIQUE
Then yesterday, I read the
article in the New York Times.
About your new exhibition.
Is it true?
ART
(beat)
New York Times, gotta believe it.
Veronique nods, resolutely.
ART
You wouldn't want me to lie, would you?
(beat)
If you would, I will.
Art tries to kiss her, she turns her
cheek.
VERONIQUE
Please. I cannot go further until
I know it is you, Akril.
ART
It's me.
VERONIQUE
Then prove it.
Art kisses her.
ART
Yes.
VERONIQUE
Prove it.
ART
Yes.
VERONIQUE
Prove it!
ART
Yes!
VERONIQUE
Paint me!
ART
(beat)
What?
VERONIQUE
Paint me.
Art grabs a tube of paint from the cart.
ART
Is this edible?
VERONIQUE
I don't know. Do I remind you of
your mother?
ART
What? No, the paint. I don't
think you can eat it.
VERONIQUE
No.
A painting of me. A portrait.
ART
Oh. I'm not so good at portraits.
VERONIQUE
In your own style.
ART
I couldn't.
VERONIQUE
Please.
ART
No.
VERONIQUE
I will give you everything you desire.
ART
You mean "anything".
VERONIQUE
Everything.
ART
Let me grab my brush.
VERONIQUE
Your
brush? But all your works,
they are done with your bare feet.
ART
How do you think I get my feet clean?
VERONIQUE
In the nude.
ART
What?
VERONIQUE
With your feet, in the nude. It is
your trademark.
ART
(pause)
Why not! Let me go tint my appendages.
Art exits into the studio. As soon as he's
gone, Veronique pulls a
curved blade from her purse. Holding it
aloft, she moves toward the
studio. Seeing the brown splotch painting,
she stops.
VERONIQUE
No!
She lowers the knife, looks toward the
heavens, wrought with inner
turmoil.
VERONIQUE
Yes!
She heads toward studio again, reaches for
the door knob, but stops
dead.
VERONIQUE
No!
There is a knock on the door.
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