Menace is highly individualised but Degenerate Art playing at Old Fitz Theatre seethes with a generalised intimidation early as audiences pick their way across the small stage. Big and black-suited, the men milling around are not aggressive, more like strolling players in their jocular conversations with each other. There’s a woman, a civilising influence chatting with the usher and at ease among the men. Taking their cue from the program notes, these actors are not rare monsters but as they harness the “10% Nazi” in them, the production spits out evil deeds in our faces.
Spare visuals and a mimetic sensibility mitigate the horror of the political rise of one among those who would attach themselves to his star appeal. Agreement is uniform when his hatred is randomly attached to art works, movements and styles. Expressionism brings on a nauseous, hilarious response. For there is light here in the dark: the actors thumbs up and fist bump and our female guide has the authority to move and shush them and there is jokey, blokey fun to be had in the miming of phones and the smoking of gaspers.
Jeopardy, however, hovers mercilessly as the individuals and events address themselves to the audience. Not just in the character who sits, all playfulness, a foot from the front row or who hurtles up the stairs a little too close but in the images, both on TV screens and created from flesh. A man, back turned, hunched over a desk, arms wide, knuckles balanced, he vibrates with recognition. Others need an authoritative explain as Goebbels and Speer and Himmler get a linear historical contextualisation as the play follows the Reich without an accustomed narrative structure.
Degenerate Art at the Old Fitz Theatre. Photo credit: John Marmaras.
The production is full force yet never too loud, is wordy but dynamic and the ensemble cast modulate the bellicosity in skilful interpretations more akin to monologue than dialogue. It will not be a production for everyone as the shape of the work is defiantly non-traditional and at 100 minutes can be wearing. The writing from Toby Schmitz forms cabals to instruct and instil rather than inform but the engagement is it not just in what they say, it’s also in the surprising lyricism inside the silhouette of the words … “strudel-crust”.
The visual design of the production is flagged in viper black and blood red but technically astute in its use, avoiding colour fatigue with the insertion of whites and other stains including a decorous pink. The five upstage flats give the restless possibility of movement as they appear to float and familiarity pulls telephone poles and double decker buses from the upward stokes of their pale swatches on mouldy green. Characters can hide by leaning against the relentlessly black walls and the precision of the lighting changes is one of the best operated this year, needle sharp. And this cast has the unerring skill to face off a narrow spotlight in a sea of gloom. The choice of music is unerringly sympathetic with the emotional impact of the piece and the use of a live mic has Nuremburg echo when required.
Despite its stripped staging, Degenerate Art rings with Weimar decadence in the direct confrontation of audience, the complexity of movement and the expression of blackness nestled in the humanness of evildoers. The production bristles with power and excellence.
4 stars ★★★★
Degenerate Art
Written & Directed by Toby Schmitz
Cast: Septimus Caton, Guy Edmonds, Giles Gartrell-Mills, Henry Nixon, Megan O’Connell, Rupert Reid, Toby Schmitz
Assistant Director: Andrew Henry
Set & Costume Design: Maya Keys
Lighting Design: Alexander Berlage
Sound Design: Ben Pierpoint
AV Design: Aron Murray
