Review: EDWARD ALBEE'S OCCUPANT at Theater J

It's natural to wonder about the legacy we'll leave behind when we're gone, to consider what people will say about us when we're no longer there to set the record straight or protest a characterization. Others will be left to speculate on what is true, what is embellishment, and what is interesting.

Theater J's latest show, Edward Albee's Occupant, explores these themes through the life of the late Great American Sculptor, Louise Nevelson (born Leah Berliawsky). Staged as a post-mortem interview, Occupant introduces the audience to this remarkable, complicated woman some thirty-odd years after her death, reflecting on her legacy and the questions that still remain about her fascinating and messy life.

Nevelson journeyed from a young Jewish girl living in a shtetl outside Kiev to a place of prominence as one of the top artists of the 20th century. Her story is compelling, but what makes Occupant - and this particular production - so moving isn't just the story itself, but the way it is told. Albee's script doesn't rely on flashbacks or reenactments, but sees the telling of Nevelson's story as fascinating in its own right - the questions that remained after her death and the contradictions she left behind are a wealth of material. As such, the script and the team at Theater J chose to create an intimate discussion between Nevelson and her interviewer.

As Louise Nevelson, Susan Rome is stunningly charismatic and magnetic - her broad motions are rivaled only by her boisterous storytelling. And yet, Rome also shows the audience a keen vulnerability to the character, both in some of her more harrowing remembrances as well as her pointed refusals to answer certain questions. Her delight in her mythology is clouded by her memories of times less worthy of the tales, and she tries to spin the story to a version she prefers whenever she is able. Rome's Nevelson is the fierce, brilliant artist we expect, but with layers of hurt, guilt, and hardship still present. She speaks openly and emotionally about her mental health, her failures, and her triumphs, with her scars on display even as she tries to hide them. The result is a fully realized woman, one who is entrancing and, yes, interesting.

Jonathan David Martin plays Louise's interviewer with equal parts fascination, adoration, and frustration. Portrayed almost as a scholar of Louise's life, he's thrilled to get to hear from her directly and to ask the questions he's clearly had for a long time. But he's also more than willing to call her out when she says something he finds to be less-than-true. Martin acts as a stand-in for the audience itself at times, drawing out tales and asking the follow-ups we're thinking, but also as a moderator, reminding the audience not to take the veracity of Nevelson's stories at face value. When she launches into a detailed story, his rapt attention mirrors that of the audience, but he also listens with a critical ear, and is quick to reference his notebook for inconsistencies. His skepticism reminds the audience that a good story does not make something true, but Nevelson's pushback on his skepticism sometimes shows that doubt doesn't erase the more dramatic truths either. Although Martin's character is generally fascinated by Louise and treats her with reverence, he's also more than happy to spar with the great woman, arguing facts and honing in on potential embellishments. His active participation makes the overall story more entertaining, as we can see how and why some of Louise's stories evolved, and how she evolved to occupy her space in the world and history books.

Director Aaron Posner helms this insightful, nuanced portrait of the artist's life. His careful direction allows the actors to naturally move around Nephelie Andonyadis' minimalist set, which is reminiscent of an art gallery. Louise's famous self-portrait (projected on the backdrop by Devin Kinch) is the focal point of the set, with benches and a table for water placed before it, almost like a viewing seat in a museum. Andonyadis also designed the costumes, which are precisely what one would expect for "brilliant and eccentric 20th century artist" and an academic figure, though neither feels over-the-top or cliché. Martin also has a podium off the side, creating an air of a lecture when he stands at it, though he's quick to abandon it for a more intimate conversation, and uses it only to pull back when questioning her tales. At the end of the show, the audience is treated to a recreation (but not an exact reproduction) of Louise's sculptures, cleverly given more depth with a well-placed mirror. The stunning reveal is outshone, though, by Louise herself, surrounded by her art as it's lit from within at the close of the show - Jesse Belsky's lighting is excellent throughout the performance, but this final image is the one that stands out most.

Occupant is a beautiful, intimate piece about a fascinating woman, presented in a clever and engaging manner. Every element of the production is thoughtful, and it's thoroughly enjoyable to settle in for an evening with Louise and her part-admiring, part-critical interviewer.

"It's only the rotten ones that stick with you," Louise laments, in reference to a particularly scathing, sexist review of her work, which she remembers far more vividly than any praise. Well, hopefully this review will stick a little anyway, and remind the members of this fabulous production just how good they really are.

Edward Albee's Occupant plays at Theater J through December 8. Performance run time is approximately two hours with one intermission. Information on tickets, discussions, and accessibility can be found on the Theater J website.

Photos courtesy of C. Stanley Photography.