February 19, 2009

The Vibrator Play

Last week, I went to the Berkeley Repertory Theatre to see Sarah Ruhl's play In the Next Room (or the Vibrator Play). Yes, it's a play that involves vibrators. And you wouldn't be wrong to think that the production of the play involved a lot of research. When I walked into the theater lobby, people were gathered around display cases filled with many different kinds of vibrators. It was quite a sight; all the people gathered around glass-encased replicas (& some originals!) of turn-of-the-century vibrators. That kind of scrutiny was a bit funny to witness.

Read what the Artistic Director, Tony Taccone, says about Sarah Ruhl's play:
Set at the dawn of the age of electricity, the story follows a fictional psychiatrist who uses a remarkable new invention, the vibrator, to treat women suffering from “hysteria.” Through a series of relationships Ms. Ruhl introduces us to a world where stifled Victorian mores clash with burgeoning, secret desires. The disparity between the scientific experiment that the doctor thinks he is conducting and the social drama he unwittingly catalyzes is not only the stuff of comedy, but provides a dynamic theatrical vehicle to examine the beginning of a social revolution.

Beyond its comical veneer, however, In the Next Room immerses us in the mysteries of gender and the quixotic nature of desire. By using the vibrator, each character is induced to undergo experiences that they do not cognitively understand. Sexual climaxes awaken dormant parts of their deepest selves, and they begin to recognize the profound gap that separates their acculturated behavior in the external world and the yearnings of their inner life. They begin to question their definition of happiness. The sheer power, delight and availability of orgasms prompt the demand for satisfaction in other aspects of life. For some characters, increased self-awareness brings sorrow upon realizing that they cannot sufficiently change their circumstances. For others, a new life unfolds containing a dream of happiness they never thought possible. Moreover, what it revealed is the melancholy that lives below the surface of each and every desire.


There are six characters: Dr. Givings, who is providing new treatment for "hysteria"; Mrs. Givings (Catherine), who just gave birth to a baby daughter; Mr. Daldry, whose wife, Sabrina, is receiving treatment from Dr. Givings; Elizabeth, the wet nurse hired by Mrs. Givings; Annie, assistant to Dr. Givings; Leo Irving, the artist. The play explores the deep, complex relationships between each of these individuals, and decompartmentalizes rooms, the multiple layers, of very real human relationships. Sarah Ruhl unravels and complicates relationships between neighbors and friends, doctors and patients, husbands and wives, employers and employees, and mothers and children. We also embrace issues of race, gender, and social class. To top it off, add discussions of art and same-sex relationships.

I laughed, and cried, and laughed a lot more than I expected I would. Two moments stand out in my mind, and hopefully sharing them will entice you to go see the play:

In one scene, Catherine and Elizabeth are in the room talking about motherhood (that's simplifying it 200%). Lots of back and forth -- very deeply touching -- about each mother's love and sense of duty and conflicting emotions about their own children. As Elizabeth laments her inability to give life's milk to her own child, she begrudges giving that same source of life, which rightfully belongs to her son, to Catherine's daughter. On the other hand, Catherine grieves over the loss, the disconnect, between her and her daughter whose life is nourished by another woman's milk. Elizabeth wonders why Jesus would take her son, and ponders if it was because she loved him too much so that Jesus wanted to take him back. Catherine compares herself to Jesus, saying she wants to give and give and give but there is nothing of the broken body to give, while Jesus's body is broken in order to be given over and over and over.

In another scene, Mr. Irving the painter says he loves a lot of women so that he can be an artist; if he were to love less, he would be a musician; if he were to love more, he would be a poet. (Aaaahhh... now I know why I got my MFA: so I wouldn't be a musician or an artist?)

It was an incredibly funny, poignant, intelligent piece of art. You must go see if it comes to your area.

1 comment:

Alexander Chee said...

I saw her read from it last year and loved it. It's great stuff.