"WAX & WAYNE," Local Infinities at National Pastime Theater
BY LUCIA MAURO
In Ovid’s myth of "Pygmalion and Galatea" – about a woman-hating sculptor who eventually falls in love with the female statue he molds to soft perfection – Galatea’s transformation from stone to flesh is likened to "watching wax soften in the sun" (at least by mythology guru Edith Hamilton). Local Infinities, a collaborative Chicago company that merges physical theater and visual art, has taken that notion to heart in its original performance piece, "Wax & Wayne," at National Pastime Theater.
But as literal as the concept may seem of witnessing one artist emerge from a wax shell and another get encased in a shroud of hot molten wax, the work undulates across an ocean of constantly transmogrifying metaphors. This 70-minute voyeuristic peek into the creative process – directed with a measured flow of unpredictability by John Musial – posits audiences in a cluttered artist’s studio. Creators Meghan Strell, Larry Underwood and Charlie Levin place themselves at the mercy of their materials, even as they try to harness that elusive artistic spark.
Levin is detached from the central Pygmalion and Galatea action. But, as she paints on a large glass canvas the Picasso-like fragments of a woman’s figure in multicolored wax brushstrokes, she forges an elusive connection to the two main figures engaged in deconstructing immortality before our eyes.
Underwood, an absent-minded comic figure, takes on the persona of Wayne (a.k.a. Pygmalion). But, in an intriguing move away from the familiar myth, Wayne does not long for his statue (Strell in a performance of awe-inspiring endurance and flexibility) to become flesh and blood. Instead the statue asserts her will and slowly sheds small shards of her wax covering or, in figurative terms, her emotional statis. Wayne appears intermittently flummoxed and enticed by this change.
An invigorating yet sad birth and death dichotomy courses through "Wax & Wayne." The Wax figure – Strell convincingly covered from head to toe in the icy-smooth substance – breaks out of this calcified womb (an idea later mirrored in her awkward peeling of a hard-boiled egg) and gradually discovers joy, fear, sensuality and pain. Her tentative curiosity grows into confident boundary pushing until she usurps the soul of the now-subservient sculptor. But this is no quaint role-reversal study.
Wayne already has tread on those experiences – from ecstasy to anxiety to longing for fulfillment and artistic truth seeking – that make us human. His wish, therefore, is to merge with his art – not by uniting with his dream-statue-turned-real woman, but by marrying the very process that defines him. In a complex and dangerously timed series of hoisting and dunking, Underwood later emerges from a tub of molten wax heated at 140 degrees Fahrenheit. The liquid coating then becomes a simultaneous life-ending and life-preserving force (unfortunately, the humidity on opening night did not allow all of the wax to adhere to Underwood’s flesh, but the point was made nonetheless.)
One can’t help but envy Wayne’s statuesque permutation, while lamenting all that Strell’s former wax figure still has to learn through trial and error as a human.
A profoundly meditative and inspiring performance piece, accompanied by the resourceful live sound effects of Tom Howe (using a pipe, bicycle wheel, metronome, alarm clock, saw and concertina), "Wax & Wayne" prompts larger ponderings: For instance, how much of ourselves do we inject into our own daily masterpieces (from job performance to relationships), and how does our quest for immortality manifest itself in the desire to leave a legacy?
The last striking moment, which involves Levin’s finished painting and a gasp-inducing optical illusion created by lighting designers Jenna Sjunneson McDanold and Ben Spicer, brilliantly serves to dismantle and enliven those thoughts. The solid but worn vintage National Pastime space also reminds us of the fragility and invincibility of our existence.•
Local Infinities’ production of "Wax & Wayne" runs through August 25 at National Pastime Theater, 4139 N. Broadway. Tickets: $15. Call 312-560-7051 or log onto www.localinfinities.com.
