Art of Devastation

I loaded up a little too much on experiences today and probably won't say all I want to. Rather than delay (i.e., procrastinate long enough to forget), here goes.

First discovery this weekend was the photography of Brad Pogatetz, on display with a ton of other artists of various media at the annual Bethesda Art Festival just down the street from me. Brad's booth was the only one that really caught my eye as I wandered through yesterday.

Brad Pogatetz. Credit: C. G. Wagner

I don't want to disparage the various sculptors, fiber manipulators, glass blowers, jewelry makers, wood workers, painters, and what not, but I just wasn't captivated as I was with Brad's reflections on abandoned and decaying artifacts of civilization.

The subject matter may not be unique or new; what drew me to Brad's booth was that his work reminded me of the piece I recently saw in the Huffington Post on the photographs of Detroit's abandoned theaters. Unlike the more documentary approach of Yves Marchand and Romain Meffre, Brad seeks patterns and light, color and humor, in his subjects. And he finds hope. He doesn't document our despair only to abandon us again. He rescues our humanity from what we have left behind, what we have let happen to us.

My next stop today was the Portrait Gallery to see the "Dancing the Dream" exhibit, detouring through "Democracy of Images" photography exhibit at Smithsonian's American Art Museum. More on these later. My real destination for the day was Ford's Theater's production of The Laramie Project.

The Laramie Project, cast. Photo by Carol Rosegg (via Facebook)

I've already covered Ford's "Not Alone" exhibition of the letters that came in response to Matthew Shepard's brutal murder 15 years ago. I was prepared to be just as moved, but the play was more powerful than I expected, even knowing what it was about.

Like the photographs by Brad Pogatetz, the artists composing The Laramie Project began with the beauty of the Wyoming landscape, journeyed through horrific inhumanity, to eventually end again in beauty and hope, with Dennis Shepard's epiphany that Matthew did not die alone. He died with his friends: the stars, the sun, and God.

As for the production: The dramatization of interviews gave Laramie the same kind of staging as shows I've previously discussed, like ReEntry, wherein the actors do very little acting with each other. That staging normally drives me bats, but it worked for this production because, as one of the interviewees kept reminding the troupe of actors who came to tell their story, "You have to tell it correct." The goal was to convey the townspeople's stories in their own words, and that was how it was staged.

Holly Twyford, Kimberly Schraf in The Laramie Project. Photo by Carol Rosegg

One other great thing (for me) was to see Kimberly Gilbert in another role so soon after The Beauty Queen of Lenane over at Round House. It wasn't her fault I hated the play. I just hated the play.

Kimberly Gilbert in The Laramie project. Photo by Carol Rosegg

Kimberly was just one of a very strong cast that slid fluidly among multiple roles--townspeople, media invaders, and the members of the Tectonic Theater Project (led by Moisés Kaufman). We are all the observer and the observed. Tell the truth, correctly, and our humanity will prevail.

The Laramie Project, Ford's Theater, Washington, D.C.
Written by Moisés Kaufman and the Members of Tectonic Theater Project
Directed by Matthew Gardiner

Cast
Kimberly Gilbert 
Mitchell Hébert
Paul Scanlan 
Kimberly Schraf
Chris Stezin 
Katherine Renee Turner
Holly Twyford
Craig Wallace

Scenic Design: Beowulf Boritt
Costume Design: Helen Huang
Lighting Design: Rui Rita
Original Music and Sound Design: John Gromada
Projection Design: Clint Allen