Caravaggio feels the pain — sometimes
October 18, 2006
BY CHRIS JONES
Tribune Theater Critic
In its best moments, Richard Vetere's Caravaggio recalls the work of Tom Stoppard in its lucid and complex dissection of such issues as religion, realism, art and romanticism. In its worst moments, it trots out small-minded, melodramatic strawmen in robes, and becomes bogged down in its titular painter's sex life.
As Vetere further develops this new play, which premiered last weekend in the beautiful little Loop theater occupied by the Silk Road Theatre Project, one hopes he can find room for more of the former and less of the latter. But even now, this is quite the fascinating little drama, especially for anyone interested in the life and work of one Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio, a maverick genius active in Italy between 1593 and 1610.
Here's the good stuff. Smartly, Vetere homes in on the Catholic Church's longtime ambivalence over what you might call hypernaturalism. Caravaggio was famous for his depictions of pain and suffering — a technique that some in the church of the time initially found spiritually compelling. But as Caravaggio found to his cost, too much realism can be dangerous for artists with religious patrons, because most religious art is idealistic and romantic.
In many ways, this play hints at a similar debate over Mel Gibson's The Passion of the Christ, a hypernaturalistic movie if ever there was one. Some said Gibson's use of Carravaggio-like violence enhanced the film's spiritual resonance. Others claimed the opposite. And as that cultural contretemps proved, people of all stripes love to debate the question of how much gloss or balm — if any — should be placed on the depiction of religious suffering. Caravaggio is a sexier topic than you might think.
When Vetere's characters — Caravaggio himself (played with passion and pep by Mike Simmer), his fellow artists, his ecclesiastical supporters and antagonists — are probing those issues, the play is fascinating. But Vetere seems scared of too much debate and constantly pulls the play back into more conventional biography.
The same schism can be seen in Dale Heinen 's production. When honest and straightforward (which it is most of the time), it's quite good and very decently acted by this non-Equity cast. At other times, though, the piece engages in some baroque storytelling, which tends to cheapen the whole.
As Stoppard's success proves, there's a big audience for smart plays (and films) about the complex relationship between art and religion. With work, this could be one of those plays.
