Party Play: Seeing (and Applauding) "Red"

On January 29, First Night of Red on the Segerstrom Stage, the immediate and rousing standing ovation was led by Individual Honorary Producers Sophie and Larry Cripe and Jean and Tim Weiss.  When the applause died down, First Nighters and their guests made their way to the Cast Party, hosted by Room & Board at its South Coast Village store.



Nibbling hors d’oeuvres as they waited for the artists to arrive, guests took advantage of the opportunity to browse the store, which is now featuring the 2016 collection of American-made furniture and accessories, prior to The New Collection Open House held on Saturday and Sunday. 



On the central stairway, young painters, from the mural painting and design classes in Santa Ana College’s Fine and Performing Arts Division, created a painting in tribute to Rothko. As guests admired the work, Professor Darren Hostetter explained that the students had spent the past week painting in the style of the great abstract impressionist—arranged by Room & Board, just for this occasion.

Midway through the party, the Rothko painting was peeled back to reveal another work of art, the students’ painting of Mark Harelik and Paul David Story, who portrayed Rothko and his assistant, Ken.

The party took on an extra jubilance, as guests surrounded the actors and their director, SCR Founding Artistic Director David Emmes, to offer words of praise, led by the Cripes, who said that the eloquent script, masterful directing and dynamic acting captured the tension between an artist and his work to “create a beautiful shade of Red.”

Rothko—and the art scene in general—was what impressed Tim Weiss.  “It seems to me that Rothko was looking for relevance in an ever-changing world. The fact that Rothko's work ultimately became amazingly important and popular seems to have a certain irony, but a good reminder that you just never know what impact, small or large, you have on the world… Red serves as a great reminder that change is important and good.”



Having trouble viewing the slideshow? Try watching it here.

The Designer Behind "Red"

Designer Ralph Funicello.

SCR and Funicello

Ralph Funicello has designed sets for SCR since 1982. Here are the plays.

1. Da
2. Good
3. Buried Child
4. Highest Standard of Living
5. Going for Gold
6. Speed-the-Plow
7. Kiss of the Spiderwoman
8. Happy End
9. Twelfth Night
10. The Miser
11. Hedda Gabler
12. Dancing at Lughnasa
13. The Misanthrope
14. She Stoops to Folly
15. The Taming of the Shrew
16. Six Degrees of Separation
17. Death of a Salesman
18. Old Times
19. Misalliance
20. Private Lives
21. Tartuffe
22. The Piano Lesson
23. The Education of Randy Newman
24. The Circle
25. Major Barbara
26. Safe in Hell
27. Brooklyn Boy
28. A View from the Bridge
29. The Real Thing
30. Hamlet
31. Taking Steps
32. The Happy Ones
33. Saturn Returns
34. Misalliance
35. Elemeno Pea
36. 4000 Miles
37. Zealot
38. Red

It’s a Saturday afternoon and the Segerstrom Stage swarming with activity: props are being carefully put in place; canvas frames are being set against the walls; an Adirondack chair is being positioned in a well of light; high windows are letting “daylight” in. This is the first day of technical rehearsals for John Logan’s Red and the New York City Bowery studio of abstract expressionist artist Mark Rothko is getting its finishing touches.

Sitting near the back of the house, set designer Ralph Funicello looks approvingly at the design for his 38th production at South Coast Repertory. Each design, from his first (Da by Hugh Leonard in 1982 and directed by David Emmes) to Red (also directed by Emmes) has been distinctive and stunning.

For Red, Funicello started his research by poring over the only two photos of Rothko’s Bowery studio. During a wide-ranging conversation, Funicello talked about how he created the Red design, how he originally got into theatre and how he is helping create the next generation of artisans.

Mark Harelik as Mark Rothko on Funicello's set for Red.

Imagining Rothko’s studio: “This Bowery building still exists, it’s an old gymnasium. The interior doors I designed for the set are based on what you can see through the actual building’s main doors. Rothko rented this particular space for the Seagram murals because he needed a large area where he could put all the paintings next to each other. Self-absorbed doesn’t begin to describe him, but, as I read about him, I found that he had a very complex process to make the colors on those canvases vibrate against each other.

The real studio walls were painted a dirty white and he built fake walls, covered them with canvas and attached two-by-fours that had pulleys to raise and lower the paintings and move them around and position them in various ways. David (Emmes) and I decided we didn’t want a white room. We wanted a room that was the color of a Rothko!

In the set, the windows, the pipes, the mural-hanging apparatus, the rolling frame Rothko used to paint on—those are accurate to the original space. Of course, there are various tables for paints and supplies. We even found an old Maxwell House coffee can, the kind you would turn and open with a key.

Designing for the Segerstrom Stage: “One of the challenges of the Segerstrom is that it’s a wide space. For Red, I brought the walls in and then back, so the space feels smaller. I also took things up above, which is a trick I learned here in this wonderful space.

One thing we wanted to achieve with the design for Red is the idea that you walk into the place where these great paintings were created; there’s an excitement that comes with that. It’s like the line in the play, where someone walks past Rothko’s house and says, ‘I wonder who owns all the Rothkos?’”

Sitting in the audience during previews: “I know that performers are the direct link between the playwright—what s/he is trying to say—and the audience. My design is part of that link. So when I sit and watch a preview, I look for things that could help the performance more: What still needs to be finished? What could help better explain something? Is someone having difficulty because of set or props and what could I do to help? I look with an eye toward problem-solving.

Finding an outlet: “As a child, I had a creative imagination. But then I fell in with the wrong crowd (laughs). In high school, I once stayed after school, attended a meeting of the Drama Club and signed up for the construction crew. My father had been a house carpenter, so I knew how to cut a straight line and bang a nail without bending it, so I became the master carpenter pretty quickly.

What I really love about theatre is the social aspect of it: a group of people can come together and accomplish something incredible.

To say that design changed my life just doesn’t do it justice. I went from being a confused, aimless person to being completely dedicated. I had found something that I loved to do.

Paying it forward: “I studied with Ming Cho Lee at New York University’s School of the Arts. As a teacher, he took a lot of people who came in with their dream to be a designer—and he helped make those dreams come true. When he hired me for work one summer, that’s when I felt I had become a set designer. My other mentor is British set and costume designer Desmond Heeley.

Now as Powell Chair of Set Design at San Diego State University, I’m in the position of helping my students achieve their dreams. I provide them with the stimulation to see what the possibilities are for the worlds they create and then let them find the joy in designing them.”

Find out more about Red, on the Segerstrom Stage (Jan. 22-Feb. 21, 2016).

An Art Expert's Insights on Rothko

By Todd D. Smith, CEO and director, Orange County Museum of Art

Mark Rothko, 1963.

Art Talk

Hear more from Smith about Rothko and Red:

• Pre-performance talk on Thursday, Feb. 4, at 7 p.m. Lecture is free; no reservation necessary.
• Inside the Season on Saturday, Feb. 6, 10:30 a.m.-12:30 p.m. Tickets are $12, online or at the Box Office, (714) 708-5555.

Red is the story of Mark Rothko and his growing concern about his decision to create a series of murals for the new Four Seasons restaurant at New York’s modernist Seagram Building designed by Mies van de Rohe and Philip Johnson.

Told through a series of conversations between the artist and his new assistant, Ken, the play exposes how one of the greatest painters of the 20th century approached the act of painting and how he felt about art, consumerism, destiny, humanity and the march of time.

More broadly, though, the play offers historical insights into the types and scope of midcentury art world tensions. Possibly taking inspiration from Rothko’s canvases themselves, with their forms that seem to hover in a palpable tension to each other, the themes of the play uncover key conflicts.

The play makes it clear that the battle between the two heavyweights of post-war painting in America—Jackson Pollock and Rothko—was of concern to Rothko. The pull between the emotion of Pollock’s mature, all-over canvases filled with poured and splattered paint and the reason championed by Rothko’s cool detachment from the gestural act of painting establishes the two poles of expression for artists in the immediate post-war period. This tension is continued by the gap between Abstract Expressionism (as practiced by Pollock and Rothko) and the Pop Art movement that followed. The conversation between the older Rothko and his young assistant codifies this generational divide. At the play’s end, the two artists are left to their respective generations.

Outside of the particulars of New York City’s mid-century art world, the play extends its consideration to more universal clashes. Rothko wrestles repeatedly with the appropriateness of the decision to even undertake the commission, for it represented an unholy alliance with the very class of individuals the artist disdained. Early on, Rothko expresses his distaste for how successful Pollock had become by the time of his death, even going so far as to suggest that Pollock’s fatal car accident (in his Oldsmobile convertible) was an act of suicide. By the end of the play, Rothko must wrestle with the potential consequences of his own success. In Scene 4, Ken admonishes Rothko to “just admit your hypocrisy: The High Priest of Modern Art is painting a wall in the Temple of Consumption. You rail against commercialism in art, but pal, you’re taking the money.”

For Rothko, the commission might have provided him, in the words of playwright John Logan, “A place where the viewer could live in contemplation with the work and give it some of the same attention and care I gave it. Like a chapel … A place of communion.” In the end, Rothko’s decision makes it clear that he is unable to ensure the works have a proper place in the world.*

He was not equipped, either in real life or within the world of the play, to fulfill the terms of the commission. Yes, he could complete the paintings; and he did complete the works. That is assured.

In the end, though, it became to Rothko a wholly different endeavor. Ultimately, he could not control the paintings’ place in the world. Again, in the language of the play, Rothko came to regard the restaurant as the “place where the richest bastards in New York will come to feed and show off.”

(*A final chance to ensure his works had the proper place was realized in the 1964 commission by Dominique and John de Menil’s for the Rothko Chapel in Houston. It was here that the artist could be assured that his works would find their true place. The Chapel opened to the public in 1971. Unfortunately and in a sad twist of fate, Rothko never lived to see the works installed as he took his own life in 1970.)

Learn more and buy tickets.

Behind-the-Scenes: Saewert Meets Rothko

David Saewert, SCR Properties Carpenter

In Red, abstract expressionist Mark Rothko is working on the biggest art commission of his time. As his new assistant, Ken aids him, the two begin to debate over art and the cycle of new movements in the art world.

Throughout the play, Rothko and Ken make some progress on the art pieces. So, how do South Coast Repertory work on getting the stage and set ready for a play about an icon of modern art? Properties carpenter David Saewert took on the challenge, with only a matter of weeks to prepare.

What's your role in the Properties Department?

I primarily do "the building," which is a lot of woodworking, welding and, yes, painting. The prop shop functions in a way where we all step in and help out on any given project. I believe this is my third season at SCR as a properties carpenter, although my journey here at began in the scene shop back in 2006.

How did you approach your work on Red?
It is about understanding the process in which the original paintings were created. I did as much research as I could—watching YouTube videos and reading about the artist—to understand Rothko's process and mindset. In doing so, I learned very quickly that these were not simple shapes with minimal color just scrawled out on a canvas. The depth, detail and emotion that went into these works is something I don't think can be understood with just a cursory glance.

What are the challenges with this project?
The biggest challenge is the time factor. Since we just have a few weeks to get everything ready for the production,  I am working much like Rothko: in a very compressed amount of time

The Cerberus dog heads from Myth Adventures

What are a few favorite past productions at SCR?
Several shows that I worked on come to mind, and all for different reasons. I think the memories and experiences of working with Conservatory Director Hisa Takakuwa's team on the Theatre Conservatory Players shows is what really stands out for me. Whether it's creating metal Cerberus dogs heads for Myth Adventures, teaching the kids how to make their own props or even figuring out how to make mixing bowls and various dishes dance in Mary Poppins, these student shows never disappoint.

How do you spend some of your spare time?
I do volunteer some at the Pacific Marine Mammal Center. My hobbies, I suddenly realize, closely resemble my job functions: woodworking, welding and, yes, painting. Does Netflix count? Because, I'm a master at bingeing Netflix.

Any other shows this season that you’re looking forward to working on?
I'm always looking forward to "the next show" whatever it may be, but Red was the big one for me this season. Other than that, I think The Witches (Conservatory Junior Players) and Pinocchio (Theatre for Young Audiences) are going to be fun to work on!

Catch Saewert's work in the production of Red on the Segerstrom Stage, Jan. 22-Feb. 21, 2016.

Find out more about Red

The Many Layers of Red

by John Glore

Paul David Story and Mark Harelik in Red.

Writing About Rothko

Sometimes, blessedly, something comes fully formed. I walked into the Tate Modern and had no idea I was going to walk out writing a play. I walked into a room with the Seagram Murals for the first time. It was in a larger room, very dark, and there were 12 of them, all the way around. They stopped me cold. It was at a point in my life when I needed something to stop me—really, to stop my life. And they did. I was struck by them, and I gave them time to work on me. I went over and I read the little description on the gallery wall which talks about: “Mark Rothko painted these for the Seagram Building. He decided to keep the paintings, gave the money back, and committed suicide ten years later.” And I instantly thought this was a two-hander play, because, you know, color-field paintings are binary by nature … And so I walked out saying: I think I need to write a play about this.

*  *  *

I did a year of research before I wrote a word. I read the complexity, the sort of rabbinical, scholarly nature of his diatribes on art, and I thought: that’s what this person needs to sound like. … With Rothko, I knew what I wanted to write about. I knew why I was writing it, which had to do with my relationship with my father. The fact that the characters happened to be painters was secondary to me. And I knew that Rothko was going to have to have a huge speech about people not appreciating his work, people not taking him seriously enough. There’s a long speech in the play … and it ends with “I’m here to make you think, I’m here to stop your heart.” That’s the first thing I wrote, because I knew he was going to have a speech like that. Then I thought: If I could get past that, I could write the rest. So I wrote the hardest part first.

–from an interview with playwright John Logan in the theatre magazine, Chance

Playwright John Logan

The main activities in John Logan’s Red are: talking about painting; preparing to paint; and then beginning to paint. While this might not seem the stuff of urgent drama, the underlying action of the play is indeed urgent, stemming from a profound struggle going on in the heart and mind of painter Mark Rothko. That struggle is made manifest in his volatile interactions with the young man who has come to serve as his assistant, and in Rothko’s relationship to the world outside his studio.


Still, Red is not a portrait of a tormented artist disintegrating under the corrosive force of his own misunderstood genius (think, the Hollywood version of the Van Gogh story). It’s true, Rothko has his demons, and he will eventually take his own life, but that won’t happen until ten years after the end of Red. The two-year period in which Logan’s play takes place, 1958-59, is actually the time when Rothko experienced his ascendancy as one of the leading artists of the 20th century.


As the play begins, he has been given a commission—a sizable one —to paint a series of murals that will hang in the newly erected Seagram Building, itself a masterpiece of mid-century American architecture. Rothko should need no further proof that, after 30 years of professional striving and frustration, he has finally arrived. The commission might have gone to any of a number of other, arguably more prominent abstract expressionist artists. But the renowned architect Philip Johnson has come to him, and the honor means as much if not more to Rothko than the money.

“Rothko’s love of the theater informed his works throughout his life; he painted theatrical scenes, admired many playwrights, and referred to his paintings as ‘drama,’ and his forms as ‘performers.’ His experience painting stage sets in Portland may well have influenced the murals he designed years later for the Four Seasons restaurant in the Seagram Building in 1958 and for Harvard University in 1961, and those commissioned by Dominique and John de Menil for a chapel in Houston in 1964.”

-- Diane Waldman, Mark Rothko in New York

And yet … (There must be an “and yet,” or there would be no drama.)


And yet, his success feels terribly fragile. He remains convinced that people don’t understand his work, even if they’re willing to pay top dollar for it. He distrusts the very idea of the artist as celebrity, of art as commodity—but he can’t help feeling perturbed that other artists are more famous, that their work hangs in the best galleries and museums while his does not, that a has-been like Picasso can make a fortune selling misshapen pots and doodles on napkins, while at the same time a new generation of artists breathes down Rothko’s neck, rejecting the tenets of abstract expressionism and looking to replace it with a kind of self-aware, ironic “pop art” that Rothko finds altogether execrable. And the work of those unworthy upstarts—Warhol, Lichtenstein, Rauschenberg, et al.—is hanging in the same galleries that previously exhibited Rothko’s paintings.


So yes, this lucrative commission offers a kind of validation and vindication.


And yet … how can he take the money without feeling that he has sold out to the very anti-artistic forces that he has long vilified? Part of the problem is that the murals are destined to hang not in some grand foyer or dedicated gallery space, but on the walls of the Seagram’s Four Seasons restaurant, a “Temple of Consumption” in the words of Rothko’s assistant, Ken. Rothko has decided that this improbable setting will provide him with an opportunity to confront and provoke the richest, most powerful members of society with his work. A leftist since becoming politicized during the Depression, Rothko enthusiastically embraces the subversive possibilities of this commission.


And yet … “Selling a picture is like sending a blind child into a room full of razor blades,” he tells Ken. And he means it. Although Rothko has a flesh-and-blood daughter (and will soon have a son), he thinks of his paintings as his progeny, to be protected at all costs from unfriendly eyes, uncomprehending hearts and the maws of unscrupulous predators. So how can he consider letting them hang amidst the ravening and maneuvering and dinner-table palavering of New York’s power elite?


That’s what so perplexes and frustrates the young assistant, Ken. An aspiring artist himself, he signed on for this job because of a true admiration for Rothko and his work. Ken has lived his own story of pain and hardship at an early age, which makes it possible for him to understand in a deep way Rothko’s insistence that art must spring from a tragic impulse, that there must be “tragedy in every brushstroke.” Although Rothko insisted when hiring Ken that he had no intention of serving as his mentor, his rabbi, his father-figure or his therapist, he eventually becomes all of those to some degree. The more time Ken spends in the studio, listening to Rothko, working with Rothko, communing with Rothko, the more Ken’s admiration deepens.


And yet …


Although Red uses art—and the psyche of the artist—as its specific dramatic material, its human concerns are more universal than that. The goings-on in Rothko’s studio, the day-to-day business of a working artist, are fascinating (and in one instance, even thrilling), but they are only the surface layer of Logan’s story of two men grappling with the conundrum of life from two very different perspectives. Ken is just starting out as an artist and a man; Rothko is very near the pinnacle of achievement, a vantage-point from which one inevitably begins to consider the possibility of decline and loss. Ken needs to understand; Rothko needs to be understood. Ken still sees life as a process of addition; Rothko understands that it is inescapably a process of gradual subtraction and simplification (a process that has also informed the development of his art). Ken is young and hungry; Rothko is getting old … but he’s still hungry. Red is about the synergy that arises between them as they pursue a common goal and discover their connection.



Paul David Story and Mark Harelik in Red.

Red Dream Team

SCR’s production of Red is staged by founding artistic director David Emmes. While casting is always a vital aspect of directing, it becomes especially crucial when a play includes only two characters, one of whom is a titan of 20th century American art with a larger-than-life personality and a propensity to be loquacious. Emmes didn’t commit to taking on Red until he had found, in Mark Harelik, an actor who could do justice to the role of Mark Rothko.

Harelik’s illustrious association with SCR spans 25 years and six previous productions (along with a great many workshops and readings). He played leading roles in Search and Destroy (1990), Tartuffe (1999), The Hollow Lands (2000), The Beard of Avon (2001), Cyrano de Bergerac (2004) and In a Garden (2010). He has also appeared in New York (where his credits include the original Broadway production of The Light in the Piazza), in regional theatres nationwide, and in numerous films and television shows. SCR has long considered him to be one of the leading theatre actors of his generation, and we welcome his return in Red.

In some ways, the greater casting challenge came in finding a young actor who could hold his own onstage with Harelik. Paul David Story makes his SCR debut (apart from appearing in the NewSCRipts reading of Death of the Author) in the role of Rothko’s assistant, Ken. Story has appeared on and off-Broadway, at such leading regional theatres as Baltimore’s CenterStage and the Dallas Theatre Center, and on film and television.

A play about art demands a scenic design of consummate artistry: One of the finest set designers in the American theatre, Ralph Funicello, returns to SCR for his 29th season, after having contributed designs for such disparate productions as Zealot, Hamlet, Misalliance (twice) and Brooklyn Boy, among many others. The design team is rounded out by costume designer Fred Kinney (whose SCR set and/or costume assignments have included Sight Unseen, Sunlight, A Wrinkle in Time and Ordinary Days) and Cricket Myers (Mr. Wolf, Zealot, Trudy and Max in Love and many others) for sound design; but no one thus far mentioned outdoes lighting designer Tom Ruzika for SCR longevity, as this marks his 40th year of contributing lighting designs to SCR productions (including all 36 years of A Christmas Carol).

SCR’s production of Red does include passing references to 19th- and 20th-century art, architecture and literature. Need a refresher? Check out the art movement glossary.

Learn more and buy tickets

"Red" Glossary

While it isn’t necessary to hit the books before attending SCR’s production of Red, the play does include many passing references to 19th- and 20th-century art, architecture and literature. The following glossary is offered for those who want an introduction or refresher course on some of those references. Names in boldface are referred to in the play. For copyright reasons, we are not able to reproduce the work of artist Mark Rothko. The following links provide access to some of Rothko’s paintings.

The official Mark Rothko website:
http://www.markrothko.org

The Seagram Murals, displayed at the Tate Modern in London:
http://www.tate.org.uk/whats-on/exhibition/rothko/room-guide/room-3-seagram-murals

20th Century Artistic Movements 

(for more in-depth discussions of these movements and their artists, we suggest visiting the encyclopedic website, www.artstory.org.)

Cubism: an early-20th-century movement, pioneered by Georges Braque and Pablo Picasso, which revolutionized European painting and sculpture. The term broadly categorizes a wide variety of art produced in Paris during the 1910s and 1920s. In cubist artwork, objects are analyzed, broken up and reassembled in an abstracted form; instead of depicting objects from one viewpoint, the artist breaks volumes into fragmented planes, to depict the subject from multiple viewpoints and/or to create a sense of movement and the operation of time. Abstract expressionist Willem de Kooning is said to have been greatly influenced by cubism.

Abstract Expressionism: a post-World War II movement in American painting, developed in New York in the 1940s (hence sometimes called the “New York School”). The movement's name is derived from a combination of the emotional expressivity of the German Expressionists with the anti-figurative aesthetic of the European abstract schools. Even so, according to artstory.org, “Abstract Expressionist art was championed for being emphatically American in spirit—monumental in scale, romantic in mood, and expressive of a rugged individual freedom.” While Absract Expressionism has an image of being rebellious, anarchic and highly idiosyncratic, a hallmark of much of the work was a striving for balance between chaos and control. This was the first specifically American movement to achieve international influence and it put New York at the center of the western art world. The term is loosely applied to any number of artists who had markedly different styles, and even to work that is neither especially abstract nor expressionist. Rothko’s mature work is usually labeled Abstract Expressionism, although he balked at that or any other label. Other principal artists of the movement included Jackson Pollock (known for his action paintings composed of drips and splashes), Willem de Kooning (another practitioner of gestural action painting), Arshile Gorky (who, like Rothko, moved from surrealism to abstract expressionism), Barnett Newman and Robert Motherwell (the last two recognized with Rothko as among the preeminent “color field” painters).

Frank Stella came along late in the abstract expressionist period and moved away from that loose, expressive form to a kind of minimalism that emphasized flat surfaces filled with lines and bands of color, pin-stripes and geometric forms, stripped of expressive emotional content.

Pop Art: A movement that emerged in the late ‘50s that used imagery from popular culture, including advertising, comic books and the daily news, often emphasizing banal, kitschy aspects of the culture. The movement arose as a reaction against the then-dominant forms of abstract expressionism, and pop art is sometimes considered an early example of post-modernism. Aiming to blur the boundaries between “high art” and “low culture,” Pop Art restores representationalism (recreation of recognizable images), but replaces the “high-art” interest in morality, mythology, religion or classical history with attention to commonplace objects, every-day imagery and pop-culture icons. Its mode is generally ironic. Best known practitioners include Andy Warhol (Campbell’s soup cans, Marilyn Monroe), Jasper Johns (American flag paintings), Robert Rauschenberg (collage-like “combines” of trash, found objects and images) and Roy Lichtenstein (comic book imagery employing enlarged “Ben-Day” color dots).

Paintings Referred to in the Play

Caravaggio's Conversion of Saul in the Santa Maria del Popolo

Matisse's painting The Red Studio

“Chatterton in his classic Pieta-pose”: Henry Wallis, The Death of Chatterton

Rembrandt’s Belshazzar's Feast, National Gallery of London

Miscellaneous

Michelangelo’s Laurentian Library staircase, Florence

Pentimento: an alteration in a painting, evidenced by traces of previous work, showing that the artist has changed his or her mind as to the composition during the process of painting. The word is Italian for repentance.

Seagram Building

Seagram Building: a 38-story skyscraper, located at 375 Park Avenue, between 52nd and 53rd Streets in Midtown Manhattan; completed in 1958. The structure was designed by German architect Ludwig Mies van der Rohe while the lobby and other internal spaces—including The Four Seasons and Brasserie restaurants—were designed by Philip Johnson. One of Mies’ most innovative architectural decisions was to set the tower back from the property line to create a forecourt plaza and fountain on Park Avenue. Although the choice was to become widely influential as an urban design feature, Mies had to convince the project’s bankers that a taller tower with significant open (“wasted”) space at ground level would enhance the presence and prestige of the building. Mies’ design included a bronze curtain wall with external mullions that went beyond what was structurally necessary, prompting some detractors to criticize it for having committed the “crime of ornamentation.” But in 1999, Herbert Muschamp, architecture critic of the New York Times, hailed the Seagram Building as “the Millennium's most important building.”

Mies van der Rohe: widely regarded as one of the pioneers of modern architecture, along with Le Corbusier, Walter Gropius and Frank Lloyd Wright. Like many of his post-World War I contemporaries, he sought to establish a new architectural style that would represent modern times the way Classical and Gothic did their own eras. Boldly abandoning ornamentation, he sought extreme clarity and simplicity in his designs—with rectilinear and planar forms, clean lines, pure use of color, and the extension of space around and beyond interior walls. Referring to his buildings as "skin and bones" architecture, he strove for structural order balanced against the implied freedom of free-flowing open space. He is often associated with his quotation of the aphorisms, “less is more” and “God is in the details.”

Philip Johnson: American architect who helped pioneer the “International Style,” which introduced European ideas of modern architecture to America and reshaped American architecture in the latter half of the 20th century. Johnson argued that the new modern style maintained three formal principles: 1) an emphasis on architectural volume over mass (planes rather than solidity); 2) a rejection of symmetry; and 3) rejection of applied decoration. He had a lifelong professional relationship with Mies van der Rohe—as collaborator and competitor. Among his many buildings are the New York State Theatre at Lincoln Center and the Crystal Cathedral in Orange County.

Moccasin slippers with Neolite soles: Ken, Rothko’s assistant, relates a memory in which “I put on my slippers—they were those Neolite ones that look like moccasins.”

Nietzsche’s Birth of Tragedy

a brief summary (passages in bold apply most particularly to references in Red)

The Birth of Tragedy is divided into twenty-five chapters and a forward. The first fifteen chapters deal with the nature of Greek Tragedy, which Nietzsche claims was born when the Apollonian worldview met the Dionysian. The last 10 chapters use the Greek model to understand the state of modern culture, both its decline and its possible rebirth. The tone of the text is inspirational. Nietzsche often addresses the reader directly, saying at the end of chapter twenty, “Dare now to be tragic men, for ye shall be redeemed!” Nietzsche forms a very strict definition of art that excludes subjective self-expression. Despite his criticisms of human culture, however, Nietzsche has great faith in the human soul and urges us to drop our Socratic pretenses and accept the culture of Dionysus again.

Nietzsche describes the state of Greek art before the influence of Dionysus as being naive and concerned only with appearances: the observer was never truly united with or immersed in art, instead remaining always in quiet contemplation of it. Apollonian formal control was designed to shield man from the innate suffering of the world, and thus provide some relief and comfort.

Then came Dionysus, whose ecstatic revels shocked the Apollonian spirit of Greek culture. In the end, however, it was only through one's immersion in the Dionysian essence of Primordial Unity that redemption from the suffering of the world could be achieved. In Dionysus, man found that his existence was not limited to his individual experiences alone. As the Dionysian essence is eternal, one who connects with this essence finds a new source of life and hope, and the possibility of transcending the fate of all men, which is death. Nietzsche posits Dionysus as an alternative to the salvation offered by Christianity and its demand that man renounce life on earth altogether and focus only on heaven: in order to achieve salvation through Dionysus, one must immerse oneself in life now.

However, while man can find salvation in Dionysus, he requires Apollo to provide form to the essence of Dionysus. The chorus and actors of tragedy were representations through which the essence of Dionysus was given voice. Through them, man was able to experience the joys of redemption from worldly suffering. These Apollonian appearances also stood as a bulwark against the chaos of Dionysus, so that the viewer would not become completely lost in Dionysian ecstasy. Nietzsche emphasizes that in real tragic art, the elements of Dionysus and Apollo were inextricably entwined.

Because words could never serve to delve into the depths of the Dionysian essence, music was the life of the tragic art form. Music exists in the realm beyond language, and so allows us to rise beyond consciousness and experience our connection to the Primordial Unity. Music is superior to all other arts in that it does not represent outward appearances, but rather expresses the "world will" itself.

In contrast to the typical Enlightenment view of ancient Greek culture as noble, simple, elegant and grandiose, Nietzsche believed the Greeks were grappling with pessimism. The universe in which we live is the product of great interacting forces; but we neither observe nor know these as such. What we put together as our conceptions of the world, Nietzsche thought, never actually addresses the underlying realities. It is human destiny to be controlled by the darkest universal realities and, at the same time, to live life in a human-dreamt world of illusions. The Greek spectator became healthy through direct experience of the Dionysian within the protective spirit-of-tragedy on the Apollonian stage.

This glossary is a companion to an article about John Logan’s Red. Read the full article.

Behind-the-Scenes: Lights Up, Backstage

Andrew Stephens, SCR's Segerstrom Stage Lighting Technician.

It's all in the lighting. From photography to concerts and plays, lighting can set the mood and tone of any art piece or performance. In Red, the character Ken observes, "To keep it mysterious, to let the pictures pulsate. Turn on bright lights and the stage effect is ruined—suddenly it's nothing but a bare stage with a bunch of fake walls."

Stephens in the Segerstrom booth, at the console.

As Ken points out, lighting can make or break how people see art. And on the Segerstrom Stage, there's an SCR staff member who is an important part of making sure the lighting equipment is set up and ready for each production. Alongside the master electrician and crew, lighting technician Andrew makes sure the right lighting instruments are in place high above the audience, works with the designers to program each cue for every "look" of the show and is up in the booth for every performance running the lighting console.

Stephens grew up splitting his time between two countries: the United States (Kansas City, Kan.) and Australia (Brisbane). At a young age, his interest in lighting sparked when he attended concerts. Stephens was fascinated by the lights and the people behind them. He recalls, "I would find myself spending more time watching the lighting operators and less time watching the shows themselves."

Late in high school, Stephens found himself with a budding interest in theatre. When he attended the Queensland University of Technology in Brisbane, his appreciation for theatrical lighting only deepened. SCR also happened to ping on Stephens' radar during his college years, and while visiting family in Orange County, he noticed SCR when attending a concert next door at the Segerstrom Center for the Arts. As soon as a job was available, he applied, made the move and has been with SCR for three seasons now.

As he watches every performance on the Segerstrom Stage, he finds that he can agree with Ken's observation in Red.

"I feel like lighting becomes another character on stage," says Stephens. "In any given cue, the intensity, color or angle of light can change the mood or shift the way the audience perceives what's happening on stage."

Something RED

Learn more about Red

Director’s Notes: David Emmes Talks "Red"

Actor Mark Harelik and director David Emmes.

Mark Rothko.

Playwright John Logan opens Red with a question that abstract expressionist artist Mark Rothko poses to Ken, his new assistant. As they look at a painting. Rothko says, “What do you see?” as they look at a painting. Then, “Engage with it.”

It could also go to what Logan seems to ask the audience to do during the performance: engage with the play, respond to it, let it wrap its theatrical arms around you.

Red is set in 1958, when Rothko is at the height of his glory and has begun work on the biggest commission in the history of modern art. It’s a pivotal point in the art world: abstract expressionism has stomped out cubism, but pop art looms threateningly on the horizon. This Tony Award-winning play looks at the nature of art and artists.

South Coast Repertory Founding Artistic Director David Emmes will direct Red on the Segerstrom Stage. In a recent conversation about the play, Emmes talked broadly about Red and some of the issues it raises.

What about this play attracted you?
I absolutely am a strong admirer of Mark Rothko! I also am interested in the issues of art and the idea of how one finds a way to pursue art and, at the same time, pay the bills. When we first started SCR, actor John Arthur Davis quipped that ‘Well, if we just stay in a garage and don’t change anything, then we could do what we wanted without worrying about things like the rent.’ That is a situation of complete liberation. He was kidding, but right. When you pursue the arts professionally, it can become a struggle as to what your art can be or it may limit the time or choices that you have.

I also know that a good play can be made all the more compelling if you have the right cast. Early on, I knew I could do Red if Mark Harelik would do it. He’s an actor who in the top-most ranks of American theatre actors. We also have a design team that includes Ralph Funicello, whom I regard as one of the finest designers in American theatre. So we were off to a strong start.

What are some of the challenges and opportunities in a two-character play?
Of course the challenge is that you only have two people out there! (laughs). But Red really supports that with the interesting argument it poses. The way John Logan has written it, it is a story that is accessible and understandable; in other words, you don’t need an advanced degree in art or art history to appreciate it.

What are some of the ways that you are preparing?
Rothko was a brilliant guy.  I have been reading from an art textbook that he was writing at the time of his death—and that his heirs later finished. His writing is intellectually amazing from an expository point of view alone. I’ve also been reading from a biography that is very interesting. In the end, though, even with all the research you do, what you put on stage is the text of the play. The truth is in the dialogue—it just doesn’t exist anywhere else.

What do you want audiences to come away with once they see the play?
I hope they come away with a deeper insight into how hard is it to make your way in the world. Rothko was this giant of 20th-century art—a mega-star in the visual arts world—but still faced a struggle. It’s still hard today for artists to make their way—composer, visual artist, actor, playwright, whomever—so what do you have to do? I think people can relate to it, whatever they do. The themes are universal.

If Rothko was a playwright, who would he be?
That’s an interesting question. Rothko believed that 90 percent of painting is thinking, waiting, studying and learning; 10 percent is putting it on the canvas. Rothko was a brilliant intellect. I think that he would be Henrik Ibsen, because he plotted everything out and thought things through intellectually. Or, Rothko might be like Edward Albee in a way, in terms of pure intellect.

Learn more and buy tickets.