art

Feel free to dream with ‘Frida Libre’

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By John Lyle Belden

The main critique, and recommendation, we can make of “Frida Libre” by Karen Zacarias, on stage through Aug. 2 by Fonseca Theatre Company, is that this is clearly made to be seen by children.

Based on the life of young Frida Kahlo – a girl who wanted to become a doctor but would grow up to be a world-famous artist – the story of this musical (music by Deborah Wicks La Puma) is presented by her school classmate Alex (Abner Torres Delina Jr.). He is a very shy boy who becomes project partners with a very loud girl, Frida (Flor Mojica), with colorful clothes and a noticeable limp – and they only girl in the school.

All other roles are played by Jay Fuqua and Cara Wilson.

The stern teacher they address as Maestro (Fuqua) gives them an assignment to work together, a paper on “metamorphosis.” To research, they go to Frida’s bright blue house to look through her parents’ books. On the way, we find that Alex is afraid of heights and Frida, though not admitting fear, is reluctant to ride the city trolley (a bit of foreshadowing, for those who know).

Becoming aware they are both dreamers, each reveals their ideal inner self: He is Super Luchador (Fuqua), a masked wrestler in a white cape who crushes fear and saves lives. She is Frida Libre (Wilson), running free and working to heal the world. As they study, he shows an eye for details, while she reveals her talent at painting. With the help of a caterpillar in a strawberry jelly jar, they opt for a more elaborate presentation, sure to knock Maestro’s socks off.

Carried along with catchy tunes like “Paint Me a Picture,” “206 Bones,” and “Metamorphosis,” this one-hour narrative presents aspects of Kahlo’s upbringing in Mexico City with sufficient dramatic license to soften her pain and setbacks (though not shying away from them), making it relatable to young audiences. We even find how their dreams, seeming momentarily impossible, come true.  

Mojica, who also portrayed young Frida in the more mature production “La Casa Azul,” fits comfortably in her flower-embroidered slippers. Her charm brings us along to find this is about more than just the transformation of the insect in the jar. Delina eagerly easily connects with the kids of all ages watching, as Alex finds himself growing as well.

Fuqua and Wilson add to the fun, especially as the heroic alter egos. Also, his Maestro comes across as appropriately intimidating, at least from the students’ perspective.

Speech and songs are mostly in English, which casually translates the numerous Spanish words sprinkled in – lending authenticity with understandability and enhanced educational value.

Chandra Lynch directed, with vocal direction by Josiah Ray McCruiston, choreography by Linda Thomson, and costumes by Cee-Cee Swalling.

There is one weekend left! Bring your children to “Frida Libre” performances Friday evening and Saturday and Sunday afternoons (July 31- Aug. 2), at 2508 W. Michigan St., Indianapolis.

While there, see the paintings in “A Celebration of Frida, Luchadors, and Mexican Heritage,” a collaboration with Arte Mexicano en Indiana, in the lobby and next-door gallery.

For details and tickets, see fonsecatheatre.org.

Father and gay son face horrors of Holocaust

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By John Lyle Belden

I hope that this finds you shortly after I post it – so you can see – or this is shared before the next production – so you can anticipate – the important intimate drama of “A Pink Triangle” by Kirby Taylor.

The title refers to the patch worn by LGBTQ prisoners in Nazi concentration camps. Holocaust histories typically mention the yellow Star of David worn by Jews while tending to note in passing others tortured and killed included Roma, Communists, other political prisoners, and homosexuals. While the effort to eradicate Jewish people cannot be understated, the Pink Triangles were held in lowest regard in the camps, their harsh treatment including horrific medical experiments.

In fact, there was a macabre rainbow of color patches for various prisoner classes, a reflection of the regime’s ruthless organization of cruelty.

Coincidentally, “A Pink Triangle” has a three-fold theme. The first, its setting, is the historical hell of wartime Auschwitz, portrayed in the gaunt, nervous, hungry actors in filthy, ill-fitting striped clothing we see before us. Second is the paranoid horror of their existence and the realization among us watching that so much of the context sounds like something familiar, even relevant to current events. Third, and most important, is that this is a tragic and poignant father-son moment.

Lars (Jim Melton) can barely walk, let alone be capable of literally back-breaking labor in the stone quarry, so he gets the ironic relief of working at his own pace literally shoveling excrement while awaiting a more horrific assignment to Block 10, where experiments are conducted. His pink patch has made him a pariah; even his father momentarily shows revulsion when he sees it.

Hans (Dave Ruark) works beside Lars, the guards apparently unaware they are related. His patch is green, indicating a criminal (possibly for his family’s black-market dealings; we find from their conversation that his wife remains free to secretly help their neighbors with food and essentials). In him we see what in hindsight we refer to the “Good German” who got along and even supported the Nazis until he, like the others he was willing to condemn, was seen as unfit. He has memories of the disastrous end of the first World War and accepted the propaganda of whom to blame for hardship. Now feeling no allegiance to Hitler, he keeps secret the fact that he plays trumpet even though that would grant him easier duty in a prison or military band.

Though this is thoroughly researched, including visits to Europe – Taylor admits she had only heard of Pink Triangle victims a couple of years ago – she emphasizes this is primarily a story of a father and his son making contact, seeking some sort of understanding in what could be the last time they see each other. As a result, she has scripted an incredibly natural hour-plus conversation. Its rough flow is not primarily to communicate to us (which cleverly it does) but rather as two people who share both an intimate bond and immense pain, each felt caused by the other. Issues unresolved and unresolvable are verbally danced around yet must be confronted: Why Clara is still free; feelings about older son/brother Freddie, who served and died for the Fatherland; who betrayed Lars to the Gestapo. Helping stitch these frayed threads of discourse are odd familial touchstones, like past meals, or an ugly yellow couch.

In her directing debut, Holocaust historian Amy Grove of the CANDLES Center in Terre Haute (founded by survivor Eva Kor) keeps the story firmly grounded in its living hell. Death literally stalks these men, and all others held there, which we hear in the bursts of nearby gunfire that occasionally punctuate the scene. It’s also in the eyes of those before us. Melton, who also masterfully applied hollowing makeup, gives Lars the darting expression of a trapped rodent. His moments of feigned bravado and apathy, spiced with black humor. are his sole defense against madness, as fatal resignation battles for hope in his battered psyche.  In Hans’ expression, there is a secretly defiant watchfulness that manifests its hope in constantly looking for ways to work any system he’s in. Apparently, even if he does not survive this – his frequent cough making this more of a possibility – it will literally be on his own terms.  

Though these are fictional characters, they represent real people. Thousands were sent to concentration and death camps under an anti-gay law that predated the Nazi regime but had been strengthened and strictly enforced. The current production of “A Pink Triangle” at The District Theatre includes an exhibition of prints from Pink Triangle Portraits, a project by artist Bryan Sharland to document in paintings every queer victim of the Holocaust of which there is an available photo (including more recent pictures of survivors).

A necessary and overdue examination of a dark chapter of LGBTQ history – and human history – remaining Indianapolis performances of “A Pink Triangle” are 7:30 p.m. today (as we post this) and 4 p.m. Sunday (June 27-28) on the intimate Brian Payne Theatre (second stage) at the District Theatre, 627 Massachusetts Ave. Get tickets at IndyDistrictTheatre.org.

GHDT ‘Mélange’ continues to amaze

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By John Lyle Belden

In the performance world, we sometimes find something that is so cool, but with a limited audience, and declare it a “best-kept secret.” However, every producer and performer would much prefer that the “secret” get out!

Such is the case with Gregory Glade Hancock, whose Gregory Hancock Dance Theatre has developed a local cultural phenomenon with the “Mélange” series. As we’ve noted in past reviews, it is: One vocalist; one dancer; one visual artist; no rehearsal. Together they collaborate on the spot, with the vocals inspiring movement inspiring art. Thanks to the dedication and professionalism of all involved, the combination works for one-of-a-kind experiences. The artwork is even auctioned at the end of the performance (funds go to GHDT programs) for a unique souvenir.

The best of these so far (and they have all been great) was held on April 18-19. Vocalist Evelyn Rai leaned in on the concept by presenting what she called “a conversation between music, movement, art, and the human heart.” She then proceeded to deliver, with minimal preparation, a song and spoken word stream-of-consciousness performance based on her autobiographical book “From Grief to Grace.” It felt like a rhythm and blues sermon, delivering life wisdom such as “there is a beautiful side to grief” and “in every season there is a lesson.”

Meanwhile, as artist Christina Hollering worked diligently at her easel, dancer Cody Miley (a veteran of Dance Kaleidoscope who has performed with GHDT) interpreted Rai’s words in flowing movement. He seemed a little impish at first, even invading the artist’s space to playfully dab a bit of her charcoal on his face. However, it becomes evident that his method is to link together the elements, bringing human connection to artistic endeavor. Rai goes with this, even indulging Miley by taking his hand for a few joyous steps. For this Mélange, the trio was a foursome, as Ian Dunlap on keyboards provided perfect accompaniment, and even got to play a solo.

In a word, the experience of April’s show felt transcendent. Find out what superlatives you can attach to the next Mélange on May 16-17 in The Florence performance space at the Academy of Gregory Hancock Dance Theatre, 329 Gradle Dr., Carmel. This will feature vocalist Angela Manlove, dancer Olivia Payton, and visual artist Debbie Slack.

Manlove is a powerhouse performer whom we have seen twice in the iconic Sarah role in “Ragtime,” once in the Whitney Houston role in the musical of “The Bodyguard,” and in a major supporting role (The Moon) in “Caroline, or Change.” Which, if any, of this material she brings will be a surprise to all – but still spectacular.

Payton, a GHDT company regular who was the lead character in the recent “Exodus,” last performed a Mélange two years ago. Her balance of athleticism and grace, we described then, was a “sultry style (that) perfectly complemented every song… She seemed to feel her way through the various moods evoked by (the) vocals.”

Slack, who works in an expressionist style on varied subject matter, states on her website, “For me, painting is both a joyful and deeply spiritual process.” Her gallery includes still lifes, as well as capturing the motion of Indy race cars.

Get tickets ($25 each) at gregoryhancockdancetheatre.org. And help spread the word!

A swingin’, showtune singin’ GHDT ‘Melange’

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By John Lyle Belden

If you are reading this before 3 p.m. Sunday, March 16 (I’m posting it only hours before), do consider heading over to Gregory Hancock Dance Theatre’s office and studio on Carmel’s Gradle Drive, in the big black box of The Florence, to see the latest collaboration of “Melange.” For the $20 ticket, you get 16 hit tunes sung by the fabulous Tim Hunt, along with the grace and energy of dancer Abigail Lessaris, during on-the-spot creation of art by painter Lily Kessler.

If, as most will, you read this late Sunday or after, read on to get the feel for this unique production that had excellent performances by other eclectic trios last year and should return in future months.

The concept is simple and challenging. Gregory Glade Hancock assembles a vocalist, a visual artist, and one of his company dancers for a weekend of three performances. The person singing and/or speaking arranges a one-hour program without collaborating with the others – they might not even meet until the first show date. So, for the dancer and artist the work is entirely improvised, drawing inspiration from everything in the moment. The results are each unique, coming together nicely due to the dedication and professionalism of the participants. The artwork is shown to the audience at the end – taking a photo of it is ok – and it is donated to GHDT and immediately auctioned.

Each vocal artist brings their own flair, naturally, and you may know Hunt from his recent “sweet” turn as Frank in Indy’s “Rocky Horror” – but he’s not doing that character here. He sings popular bits from other shows he’s done, ones he just liked the sound of, and one he would really like to do. He also displays his love for the songbook of Rat Pack-style jazz and Harry Connick, Jr., with a number of swinging and sentimental songs. He’ll also give us a little Don McLean (“Not that song,” he says before, “or that other one, either”). The delivery is pure joy; it would be worth the ticket and more if this were just his cabaret.

However, there is also Ms. Lessaris, an instructor and the assistant director for GHDT, and frequently a featured dancer in their shows. Her flowing modern and ballet style matched the beat leaving her glowing with energy (and sweat) and enjoying every minute. Styles ranged from gentle grace to the opportunity for a quick hillbilly jig. The songs having instrumental breaks even gave her “solos” to show off. One wouldn’t know there was no prior collaboration.

Abstract painter Kessler, an adjunct professor at Butler University and creator of “The Art of Living Yoga” book series, literally let the energy of the hour guide her into her work. The resulting in-balance beauty I’ll not elaborate on as today’s creation won’t necessarily be the same as it, however this original – her fastest work, she confessed – was worth more than its multiple bids.

See gregoryhancockdancetheatre.org for information on this and future performances, including the dance programs “Spring Equinox” on April 4-5 and “Summer Solstice” June 6-7, both at The Tarkington at the Center for the Performing Arts in downtown Carmel. The Academy at GHDT is at 329 Gradle Drive.

Words, dance and visual art flow into GHDT ‘Melange’

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By John Lyle Belden

On the weekend of January 11-12, Gregory Hancock Dance Theatre presented its fourth iteration of “Melange,” a largely-improvised blending of artistic disciplines by three individuals who had not only not rehearsed, but met one another on the first performance day. At the center is a performer who sings or speaks – the only element that is prepared – while a GHDT dancer interprets the goings-on in dance and a local artist captures an impression on a canvas.

Actor Jean Arnold was at the center of the space, delivering a program of spoken word, poetry and song. At the start she gave a rhythmic recitation of the folk song “The Unicorn” to set the mood of wonder and introspection with a touch of humor.

Compiled and arranged by Arnold, these pieces include a mother’s reflections on children, one she called “Fearless and Fierce,” a passage relating inner peace to world peace, one on “The Dancer,” and one “on Loving.”

The source material, she said, was literally all around us as the big box of a performance space – The Florence at the Academy at Gregory Hancock Dance Theatre – before its recent renovation had various quotes, sayings, poetry, and scripture passages of numerous faiths written below the floorboards and behind the wall surfaces, under the guidance of founder and artistic director Gregory Glade Hancock. Arnold had seen these, she said, and included some in her performance – quoting sources ranging from the Bible to Jimi Hendrix.

GHDT principal dancer Thomas James Mason was a flowing force that moved throughout the performance. He ranged from pure interpretation to moments of interplay with Arnold, when she would, with a mischievous grin, join him for a step or two. At moments, an old-time microphone stand would swirl in and out by Mason at her beckoning.

The dancer seeming to be all over the stage was captured in a number of dynamic poses by portraitist Robert Maurice Smith. In his drawing Saturday evening, Smith also captured Arnold’s energy, including, in a moment of late inspiration, the pages of the script binder that she occasionally held appearing to flow out to merge with Mason’s outstretched limbs. At the end of the performance, host (and GHDT assistant director) Abigail Lesaris auctioned the impromptu artwork with proceeds going to the dance company.  

“I am many things, but I am not quiet,” Arnold said smiling during the performance. Afterward, she noted this was unlike anything she had done on stage and enjoyed the challenge. “I wanted to leave people with something,” she said of her inspired approach.

As with the previous Melange productions, there was an almost polished feel to the unrehearsed proceedings, a confident reflection of artistic professionals. All present understood that this was, like all live theatre, a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

As this posts, there is still today’s performance, 3 p.m. Sunday, Jan. 12, at The Florence, 329 Gradle Drive, Carmel. See gregoryhancockdancetheatre.org for details and tickets, as well as info on their next show, “Down on the Bayou,” three weekends, Feb. 8-23, at The Florence.

‘Melange:’ Gregory Hancock blends art forms on Carmel stage

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By John Lyle Belden and Wendy Carson

Mélange (n) (French): a mixture or blend

Gregory Glade Hancock, founder and artistic director of Gregory Hancock Dance Theatre, has shown us his innovative style and imagination time and time again, expressed primarily in movement. Of course, there is also music and costumes, but dance is the primary focus.

With his Mélange series, Hancock widens the view, presenting us with a visionary concept of art in its many facets. In each performance, he brings together a dancer, a visual artist, and a singer to combine their talents, each artist influenced by the others. To make the result more spontaneous and organic, there is no rehearsal, and the visual artist arrives with a blank canvas, forcing improvisation and the participants’ concentration to make their collaboration work.

This past weekend was the second presentation of the concept. The grouping consisted of painter Madhuchhanda Mandal, dancer Olivia Payton (of GHDT), and vocalist Cynthia Collins (who brought along accompanist Brent Marty). The empty black-box stage of The Florence rehearsal and performance space in Carmel held just the piano, the artist’s easel and paints, a microphone and a chair.

This talented combo gave us a delightful exhibition of their combined talents, especially since some of them met for the first time just prior to the show. Collins set the tone by choosing to showcase a collection of songs by the incomparable Kander and Ebb (of Broadway hits including “Cabaret,” Chicago,” “Kiss of the Spider Woman”). A polished theatre pro, she added some entertaining patter to help set up the songs and relate what they mean to her – and even indulged in a Streisand hit and a rousing performance of “New York, New York.”

Payton’s sultry style perfectly complemented every song. She noted later that it helped that most of them were widely familiar. She seemed to feel her way through the various moods evoked by Collins’ vocals, giving her own flair so we get the novelty of a Fosse-free “All That Jazz.”

Mandal was tasked with creating a piece of artwork reflective of the performance and brought forth a delightful painting – impressionist and abstract, yet evocative of city lights and changing seasons – that was then auctioned to support the GHDT. To provide the event’s climax, we only see her face and hands at work throughout, with the canvas’s back to the audience; at the end the art is revealed to make the “mélange” complete.

Afterward, Collins noted that this was more than just a blending of disciplines. With Mandal, Payton from Hancock Dance, her from Actors Theatre of Indiana, and Marty from Booth Tarkington Civic Theatre working together, a sampling of Carmel’s varied arts scene.

Hancock plans another Melange in the coming months, with a different set of varied artists. For information on the date and participants, follow Gregory Hancock Dance Theatre on social media or visit gregoryhancockdancetheatre.org.

In ‘Frida,’ IRT presents beautiful portrait

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By Wendy Carson

For those whose knowledge of Frida Kahlo is only that she was a Mexican painter with a unibrow, you are missing out on the history of this woman who was in herself a true force of nature, defying all odds to become a legend in her own right.

In “Frida: A Self Portrait,” at Indiana Repertory Theatre, author and performer Vanessa Severo embodies the feisty spirit of Kahlo. Her tale takes us from her sad beginnings to her death inside her home, the legendary Casa Azul.

Contracting polio in childhood, her father forced her to overcome her afflictions and endure the pain in order to become who he believed she should be. This stubbornness kept her going after, at age 18, she was severely injured by a bus. This broke numerous bones in her body, leaving her in agonizing pain for the rest of her life.

Her persistence led her to a mentorship (and eventual marriage) with the renowned artist Diego Rivera. Their tumultuous relationship opened doors for her but brought immense heartache as well. As with many artists, she died relatively unknown in 1954, but her rediscovery in the ‘70s led her to become a feminist icon.

Scenic Designer Jacqueline Penrod and Costume Designer Katherine Davis, aided by Rachael Cady’s clever lighting, provide a unique setting in the IRT’s more intimate upperstage that allows Severo to easily slip from one character or situation to the next, including herself – a young performer told she has a similar spirit, and whose research included going to La Casa Azul herself to find out. Director Joanie Schultz, who has worked with Severo on this at other venues, helps her fully embody each step of this woman’s inspiring (and heartbreaking) journey, as well as her own.

Having learned more about Kahlo in the past few years, I can say that I honestly believe she would be the first to applaud this show. If you feel hesitant, even if you care nothing for the subject, the storytelling style and acting are superb so you should give this masterpiece a chance.

Performances run through April 7 at 140 W. Washington St., downtown Indianapolis. Get information and tickets at irtlive.com.

Before the ‘bang:’ A visit with Van Gogh

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By John Lyle Belden

Welcome to the world of Vincent Van Gogh!

Our entry is via the path of “Exhausted Paint” by Justin Maxwell, a playwright and Associate Professor at the University of New Orleans (another world of French style and cool cafes), presented by MFA student Drew Stroud with tour producer and wife Carly Stroud, directed by Baton Rouge-based R’Myni Watson. The Strouds have brought this one-man performance to the IndyFringe Indy Eleven stage for a single weekend before taking it to Illinois in April.

The subtitle, “The Death of Van Gogh,” is a bit misleading. The troubled genius painter was presumably alone when shot in the chest by a small-caliber revolver. It wasn’t the bullet that killed him, but the ensuing infection, 30 hours later on July 29, 1890. This isn’t covered in-depth in the play, though we eventually see it coming. (Theories have abounded in the years since, from an apparent suicide attempt to accident and even murder, but look elsewhere to expound on that.)

However, we do meet him in his final years, 1888 in Arles, France, through the birth of the namesake nephew he would never meet, in January 1890, to the day he wanders off with the gun. Correction: Time travel isn’t real (sorry, Doctor Who fans) so we’re meeting him in 2023 on a cluttered stage with painting supplies, an easel, random objects and some sort of rotating drum. And here is Vincent, who admits he is more a pop culture object now, embodied for the moment by an actor who speaks bad French (“His Dutch is even worse,” Van Gogh quips) yet through this theatre graduate student with hair dyed the copper sheen of one of the famous self-portraits, he remarks on that two-year period, based on the numerous letters he wrote to his brother – the man who financially supported him, as only one of his multitude of paintings sold in his lifetime.

Since the artist is being channeled through an improv performer, and befitting a history of various unspecified mental disorders (he leaves that up to others to define, but admits syphilis as a factor isn’t out of the question), Vincent frequently spins the drum, which has numerous parchment words stuck to it. He then pulls one, and lets the prompt guide his next brief monologue, memory, action, or audience encounter. He drinks wine, he drinks turpentine (not recommended), he bandages his head (you probably know why), he offers a bite of his potato. He labors at the canvas in bold strokes, then shows you his whole world in an envelope. He is amused, he is troubled, he is in touch with God, he is lonely, he pursues the light, he finds color in darkness. Nature – the crow, the tree root, the very atmosphere – mocks him. Another hasty drink, and the drum spins again. Stroud noted after the show this structure is indeed random, helping make no two performances the same.

Despite attempting only one French phrase, our 21st-century man does an excellent job embodying the master, complete with tics of mental distraction that don’t sink to caricature, in a modern colloquial style – complete with a few F-bombs – that would befit an Impressionist genius who just appeared, a la “Bill and Ted,” in our lecture hall. Thus I highly recommend this to anyone, teenage an up, interested at all in the man, his life and work. Through this appropriately unconventional means, we gain surprising insight into his story, and what makes his paintings – which you could have picked up back in the day for a handful of francs – worth multiple millions of dollars today. (This irony is not lost on the spirit of Vincent, either!)

If you happen to catch this review as I post it, you have a couple more opportunities to see “Exhausted Paint” in Indianapolis, today and Sunday (March 25-26) at the IndyFringe building, 719 E. St. Clair St. Get tickets at indyfringe.org. Upcoming performances are in Jacksonville, Ill., April 13; Springfield, April 14-16; and Decatur, April 18. Get info at ExhaustedPaint.com.

Ankh at Storefront: Taking knife in hand to dissect ‘Love’

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By John Lyle Belden

Sometimes, being reckless pays off.

Ankh Productions was bold enough to inquire about a residency at the relatively new Storefront Theater in Broad Ripple. Local actor Jamaal McCray was brave enough to explore the dynamics of relationships, writing “Love You Reckless” in 2017, then to dust it off, polish it and present it on stage with Chandra Lynch, Friday through Sunday, April 15-17.

And hopefully, you are curious enough to brave this examination of Yin/Yang, Power/Compassion, Man/Woman, presented raw in nearly a dozen thought-provoking scenes.

McCray and Lynch stand before us, serving up moments of aggression, fear, mischief, compassion, all as off-balance as life itself. Friends, countrymen, lend them your ears – they wield curved blades with which to collect. Other notable moments include the coming stampede(!); the consequence of control; “1,000 pieces of silver in the trash;” the longings of a lonely “sit-izen;” hard promises kept; the glitch; and an exchange of “vows and truths” that are uncomfortably honest.

The stage is decorated with just a pair of altars, to the Masculine/Sun and Feminine/Moon, featuring artworks by Kristin Stepp that are available via silent auction. McCray said that in developing this play, he looked toward old African folktale traditions. Hip-Hop is a binding ingredient, as well, but the themes are universal. Anyone in any kind of relationship can see echoes in these character pairings.

“Love You Reckless” is the kind of experience that works best — maybe only — in an intimate theatre setting. It is similar to a Fringe show but runs a bit over an hour (no intermission). Find the Storefront at 717 Broad Ripple Ave., Indianapolis. Tickets are pay-what-you-can. For information, visit AnkhProductions.org or Facebook/ankhproductions.

Phoenix: Story of treasure in unexpected place

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By John Lyle Belden

Once upon a time there was a woman, a trailer-park resident, who purchased an interesting abstract painting from a junk shop. Somebody told her it could actually be a long-lost work by a famous artist.

She reportedly replied, “Who the f#@& is Jackson Pollock?”

This true story is the touchstone for the comic drama “Bakersfield Mist,” by Stephen Sachs, on the main stage of the Phoenix Theatre through Dec. 19.

Jolene Mentink Moffatt is Maude Gutman (not the actual woman’s name, so there is room for dramatic license), hard drinking and filthy mouthed, but refreshingly honest and likable. Her cozy home appears to have been invaded by an antique mall thrift store, but she treasures every trashy trinket and questionable bit of wall art. Given the set decoration and California climate, it’s anyone’s guess whether the decorated Christmas tree indicates whether it’s the holidays or not.

She nervously awaits the arrival of fussy art expert Lionel Percy (Joshua Coomer), who can’t help but have a sour first impression of this situation, even before he gets to see the potential Pollock. 

But gaze upon it he does, and using only the expertise in his brain and the “blink” of his eyes, he confidently declares the painting a clever forgery.

Maude refuses to accept this. “What if you’re wrong?” she demands.

Thus the battle of wits is engaged, though for Maude it began before Lionel even entered her home. And the New York expert who literally wrote the book on this kind of art (more than once!) finds that while she hasn’t been to college, Maude has come to know a lot about Jackson Pollock.

Like all great theatre – or seemingly random color swirls on a white canvas – this play resonates beyond what we first encounter, as with the help of some purloined whiskey these two delve deeply into what art is, what evidence is necessary to confirm its value, and what it truly means. As art reflects life, what is genuine and what is false about the work that is us? Director and Phoenix regular Constance Macy gets a wonderful, gritty, and frequently hilarious performance from this duo, climaxing in a moment that – even if you know how this event actually resolved – has you on the edge of your seat. 

Not your typical December show, but, as I noted, there is a tree, and a bowling pin painted as a snowman, and plenty of spirit. It would be a shame to miss “Bakersfield Mist” at the Phoenix, 705 N. Illinois St., downtown Indianapolis. For info and tickets, call 317-635-7529 or visit phoenixtheatre.org.