BROADWAY SNAP-SHOT
by Russell Bouthiller

Dateline: 19 March, 2003

VINCENT IN BRIXTON

Depression and drama are in, this year. Just take a look at the 2002 Oscar nominations and you'll find a chain-smoking novelist, a disillusioned 1950s housewife and an AIDS-weary writer teetering on the verge of suicide in the much-nominated film, "The Hours." And, on Broadway, Nicholas Wright's VINCENT IN BRIXTON plumbs the depths of perhaps the most famous angst-ridden character in the history of art, the tormented Dutch painter Vincent Van Gogh.

Directed by Richard Eyre, VINCENT IN BRIXTON comes to us by way of London where it earned the Olivier Award as Best Play of 2003. Making their New York stage debuts are Jochum ten Haaf and Clare Higgins as a pair of May-December lovers united by their discontent. Ten Haaf as Vincent received an Evening Standard Award nomination as Most Promising Newcomer. And, Miss Higgins, as the world-weary widow Ursula Loyer, harnessed London's Triple Crown: the Olivier Award, the London Evening Standard Award and the London Drama Critics Circle Award for Best Actress.

VINCENT IN BRIXTON is a portrait of the artist as a young man during his London stay in the 1870s when the yet-to-be painter worked for an international firm of art dealers, Goupil and Company. With limited evidence at his disposal, Wright speculates about these early days when the twenty-year-old took up lodgings in a section of the British capital called Brixton, "a place of gray skies and bleak house fronts."

The play opens with a fragrant scene in which Vincent and his future landlady, Ursula Loyer, discuss the terms of his lodgings. During this interview, Ursula prepares the Sunday meal while the audience at the Golden Theatre savors the aroma of a fine roast lamb dinner. If the story fails to engage you, Ms. Higgins' scullery skills will not. She chops, ladles and peels with remarkable prowess.

Initially drawn to this address by his infatuation with the young daughter of Ursula, Eugenie (Sarah Drew), Vincent's eye soon turns to the more mature woman. It's been many years since Ursula has known the attentions of a man and she gives in to Vincent's clumsy advances with a defeatist's resignation. Knowing he is a virgin, she sees him as a sexually blank canvas on which she can cast the first swaths of color and shade.

Both Ursula and Vincent have brooding personalities and they develop a unique kinship of mutual melancholy. A widow who has given up on the pleasures of life, Ursula reflects on the past or glances off to the future as a way of avoiding the moment at hand. She encourages the artistic aspirations of her other tenant, Sam Plowman (Pete Starrett), and facilitates the clandestine affair he is having with her daughter. Ursula is a woman who lives for others, while denying herself.

The dark and impressionable Vincent sees in Ursula Loyer "a mirror of my despair." When he allows her to glance at his sketches, their connection grows more acute. She offers commentary and insight and he provides her the opportunity to fulfill her desire to be the cause of something remarkable. When he quotes to her from a passage in a French novel, "No woman is old as long as she loves and is loved," their lugubrious love affair takes flight.

Clare Higgins is undeniably brilliant as the tormented Ursula Loyer. Every move is delivered with intense feeling and discriminating calculation. Jochum ten Haaf's delicate gait and pale mien convey a sympathetic and deeply troubled young man. Sarah Drew is effectively grounded as Eugenie. Pete Starrett delivers an affectionate and manly portrayal of Sam Plowman. And, Liesel Matthews simmers as Vincent's rigid sister, Anna.

Director Richard Eyre creates a full portfolio of Van Gogh imagery throughout VINCENT IN BRIXTON. Tableaus are reminiscent of the painter's more famous compositions. Set and costume designs by Tim Hatley invoke earthy, impressionistic sensations as well. A knotty, wooden table sits center stage seemingly ready for a gritty gathering of potato-eaters. Even Wright's dialogue conjures up "the blackness and the brightness" of Van Gogh's unique palette.

While this clever technique provides an opportunity for the artsy cognoscenti to find the picture hidden in the picture, its contribution to the drama is questionable. Still, VINCENT IN BRIXTON manages to establish a certain believability about Van Gogh and, consequently, proves entertaining and engaging. Like the artist's bold and beautiful works, it's a disconcerting picture and, quite possibly, not for all tastes.