“说白了，对大家都没有好处”

Reviewer: Neo Hai Bin | 梁海彬
Performance: 26 September 2016

我知道台上会出现一幅白色的画。但我没料到，SRT呈现的“Art”，竟然给观众展示了3幅画。

第二幅画自然是台上三个角色所构成的画。当观众在台上看到三个人时，他们的关系已经破裂，观众只能够从字里行间和人物互动猜测他们15年的感情究竟有多深，就如我们只能够从那一幅白色的画，猜测画里头究竟隐藏着什么内容。

第三幅画竟就是布景。布景向台左倾斜，也预告我们即将看到的，濒临决裂的友谊。布景上画出了墙壁、玻璃门、以及门外的树木绿叶,和白色的画形成了强烈对比。什么是艺术？一副白色的画揭示了人性的弱点，那是艺术吗？布景的画好漂亮，却只提供功能性作用，那是艺术吗？恰如人与人之间的关系究竟是要坦诚好呢，还是美美地维持表象好呢？

Marc 在剧末说了一个故事：在白云下，白雪中，一个滑雪者在白茫茫的雪坡滑走。Marc 以谎言让自己相信那幅白色的画是有内容的。有个笑话：一个小朋友画画时交上了白卷，老师问：“为什么交白卷？”小朋友答道：“我画了，画了一片草地，还有一头牛！”老师问道：“草呢？”小朋友说：“被牛吃光了！”老师问：“牛呢？”小朋友说：“吃饱了，走了！”当代艺术需要消费者的诠释才能够成立，两者彼此需要。剧中三个朋友也正是这样的唇亡齿寒、相濡以沫的关系。剧中人物的友谊维持了15年，早就有了分裂迹象，有趣的是，三个人都无法离开彼此，形成困境，只好不断地说服自己留下来的理由。导演选择在台上摆放三张沙发、三个酒杯，假如能够通过人物运用道具的方式，来彰显三人之间的politics（权益关系、厉害关系），也许观众可以有更多的联想与想象。

“Art”通过“友谊”影射现实社会的多种关系，包括人与人、官与民、国与国—— 人事，与政治。最后Marc 以一个 white lie（善意的谎言）维护了友情，揭示了处理人事时最最无可奈何的行为。“Art”清楚阐述：谎言是必须且必要的。说“白”了，对大家都没有好处。这是维护任何关系的关隘，也是政治的道理。

台上的三幅画：白色的画、布景上面的画、三个人物构成的画…… 相辅相成，让观众从三个不同的角度看戏思考：什么是关系？什么是人事？什么是政治？什么是人性？就这一点，我有联想：水墨画有一种哲学，叫做“留白”。古老的东方智慧崇尚在艺术里、在人事里、在政治上，给予对方“留白”。那是处理人事的最高艺术。

当然，这已经是我看戏后的联想，笔止于此，否则就与“Art”无关了。

“The Eye of the Beholder”

Reviewer: Alex Foo
Performance: 5 September 2016

“It’s an Antrios,” Serge declares at the start of the play, in a mix of smug self-confidence and ecclesiastical solemnity to a disbelieving Marc, who blurts, “you paid two hundred thousand dollars for this shit?”

Yasmina Reza’s Art centres on this very Antrios painting as a trigger. What starts out as a difference in taste (at some point, we don’t know if Serge finds the adjectives ‘white’ or ‘shit’ more insulting) quickly escalates into fiery arguments, personal attacks and friends questioning the reason why they are even friends to begin with.

Reza’s one-liner factory of a script (translated by Christopher Hampton) looks at our subjective perception of art. Are we simply obsequious parrots of institutionally defined culture? And how much does one’s class influence what we read out of art? Clearly, everyone is entitled to his or her own appreciation of art, but Serge and Marc stand firmly by their own worldviews.

An impeccable cast animates the script, with Gerald Chew playing the cultivated Serge, Lim Yu-Beng the sardonic Marc, and Remesh Panicker the bumbling Yvan, with nary a line out of place, each defensively protecting their fragile male egos. At the climax of their quarrel, where Yvan’s previously innocuous felt-tip pen is put to shocking use, the scene is as taut as piano wire in spite of the sparse dialogue, as the actors’ facial expressions do all the talking.

Twenty-two years after it was written, Art feels just as contemporary and universal, having been translated to multiple languages and staged in Mandarin by Nine Years Theatre back in 2014. Art speaks to people’s insecurities around art, our reactionary posturing to every new –ism that emerges and the unavoidable friction between old friends. Critic Michael Billington singles out the deeper and more difficult question: is a sustained relationship dependent on a “certain skillful hypocrisy”? For all of its riotous hilarity and ninety-minute economy, this is not a trifle of a play, but one that packs a mean intellectual punch.

Oh and did I also forget to mention that Singapore Repertory Theatre’s staging of Art is in our very own National Gallery? The irony is delicious.

“How much would you pay for ‘Art’?”

Reviewer: Gan Soon Rui
Performance: 9 February 2014, 8pm

Would you be willing to pay?
a) S$282,337.20 for a piece of white canvas with a few faint white lines.
b) S$35 for a performance about a piece of white canvas with a few faint white lines.
Note: I have answered ‘Yes’ to one of the two questions.

Produced by Nine Years Theatre as part of Huayi Chinese Festival of Arts, Art is a Mandarin production translated from a French play of the same name by playwright Yasmina Reza. This comedy revolves around three friends, Marc (Peter Sau), Serge (Liu Xiaoyi), and Yvan (Oliver Chong) and their “bone to pick” when Serge purchases the aforementioned canvas for 200,000 francs.

Performed entirely in Mandarin, non-mandarin speaking audiences of Art would have the ‘pleasure’ of reading the surtitles located on the centre wall, provided that they do not mind:
a) Reading the punch lines ahead of the action.
b) Missing out on some of the actions as you (desperately) attempt to speed read the chunk of lines.

As far as comedy goes, each punch line must be precisely timed, its witty banter meticulously executed in order to tickle the audiences. Judging by the rousing responses on Sunday evening, my claims that the actors have successfully done so is entirely valid.

Chong’s performance as Yvan, the “idiotic pet” of the trio is wonderful, effortlessly eliciting laughter and enthusiastic applause from the audience. Not to be outshined are Sau and Liu, who thrived on their characters’ absurd disdain of one other’s antics and kept the audience grinning throughout the performance.

Some praise should be given to the set designer Wong Chee Wai for his brilliant touch in the construction of the minimalist mise-en-scene. However, I was slightly perplexed by the director, Nelson Chia’s decision to make use of the revolving walls.
While the walls allow the audience to smoothly negotiate the ever-changing space on stage, it inevitably creates a paradoxical irony:
a) The animate aspect of the revolving walls creates a considerable amount of three dimensions, literally wrapping one’s attention onto the space on stage.
b) The outlines of the stagehands can be seen sauntering across the frames, making the audience aware of the “performance”. (much like the alienating effects of a Brechtian play)

Chia’s efforts of ensuring that the off-stage actors, stagehands and musician are visible throughout the entire performance contributed to a “bare it all” idea that significantly reduced the level of realism of the performance.

Perhaps, one can see this as an attempt by him to frame Art as a piece of performance art?
So back to the question of how much would you pay for Art? I feel that it would be an absolute waste of money to pay for something you would not enjoy. If an evening of comical and philosophical banter is the right cup of tea for you, then it is money well spent.

I, for example, cannot justify myself buying a piece of white canvas with a few faint white lines for S$282,337.20.
What about you?