Without detracting from these thematic interests (more on that later), the imaginative practical intelligence of Rorschach Theater leans toward an outlandish framework. A veteran master of using unusual venues to tell unusual stories, director Randy Baker and his creative team have built a “Museum of the Man.” Deploying what's on Conley's page in an unused retail space downtown, it offers a show experience that begins at the ground-level entrance and is as entertaining as the events that occur on the stage downstairs. The overabundance of detail on his two-story installation that surrounds the play area spoils quite a bit of fun, but in a series of rooms dedicated to capturing curiosities of the human experience, the toilet Even signs are incorporated into the game. (What if “immersive” environments surrounding other site-specific works around the city were this appealing?)
Perhaps in the not-too-distant future, as the staff at the Museum of Man is putting the finishing touches on the exhibit “End of Days,'' a robot is tinkering with an artifact, a communication device, both by chance and as its creator intended. That's it—I decided to tinker with it. Explosions of silence, insubstantial echoes from deep space, and surprising possibilities: Is there a piece of humanity out there, after all? Meet six people, embodied by Baker's dedicated cast. As the characters navigate the quest to be alone in this upside-down universe, they explore the importance and limits of connection, the uncertainties of interpretation, the nature, and even the purpose of knowledge. .
Their conclusion? Not entirely clear, but probably not entirely the point. Perhaps it's a rumination meant to be enlightening, as Conley unleashes a swarm of tiny AIs to explore the solaces of philosophy. With apologies to Descartes, these robots (and the humans whose intelligence they reflect) tend to overthink, and that's why they're endearing.
Rorschach's rendition of The Museum of the Man, the most tantalizing ensemble piece, employs the ephemeral equivalent of an attic to realize Conley's idiosyncratic futuristic landscape, pleasantly cluttered both in look and feel. , there is little distinction between props, costumes, props, and makeup design. . They're all placed in the eccentric service of a story that's as interested in the act of archiving as it is in its meaning. Collecting, preserving, and interpreting, Conley's wonderfully inquisitive robot seems to be saying, is necessarily merging the subject within itself.
CCollecting, holding, and what objects mean to their owners are central questions in “An Unbuilt Life,” another new play making its world premiere in Washington, D.C., courtesy of the Washington Stage Guild. Like Conley, playwright Elizabeth DeSchreiber has some ideas about what these acts might reveal, especially in this case, depending on the circumstances. A recently widowed socialite (Susan Holliday) investigates the origins of a portrait of an old master whose art dealer husband has taken refuge in his studio, and her late spouse's broker colleague (David Brian Jackson) and an idealistic young apprentice (JC), and eventually traps him. Payne's naive curiosity and cheerful confidence lead the trio into the complex situations surrounding World War II. Doing the right thing means destroying at least one reputation, but for Agatha, the protagonist of DeSchreiber's play, it also means destroying the heretofore sufficiently interrogated This means reconsidering many of the frameworks that have not yet been established.
The mechanics of investigating the mysteries of the art world form much of Deschreiber's authentic drama, set in the first decade of the 21st century, where YouTube is an undiscovered novelty. The integrated research database is still online. There are stories about cropped canvases, counterfeit labels, international auction records, and encrypted notebooks, details of archaic art techniques, centuries-old market trends in art forgeries, and people's daily lives. The ugly and mundane realities of survival are woven into it. Art dealers and art owners in Nazi-occupied European countries. Agatha's husband and her grandfather both had stories of survival and loss centered around the war, so both her decision-making process and the reassessment she has to make as the revelations pile up It's getting complicated.
Stephen Carpenter's neat direction, set in a living room set (written by Joseph B. Musumeci, Jr.), speaks quietly to the residents' endings and connections, and there is as much at stake here as an ethical one. It emphasizes the physical reality of life. Shocked Agatha, as her jaded broker colleague repeatedly points out, has lived her life in a bubble of comfort – despite all the upheavals and incidents in the play. just burst as the final curtain fell. Like the “Museum of the Man,” new information introduced into a seemingly stable system completely upends the situation, leaving those involved with more questions than answers. And for Agatha, just like Rorschach's robot, asking will prove things.
“Museum of the Man,” Rorschach Theatre, 1020 Connecticut Ave. NW, through May 5. Approximately 90 minutes without a break. www.rorschachtheatre.com.
“An Unbuilt Life” at Washington Stage Guild, 900 Massachusetts Ave. NW through May 5. Approximately 2 hours including a break. www.stageguild.org.