Psst, three times/three ways

Three things from Friday:

1. A constant pit of smouldering nervousness in my heart. This will not be elaborated on in print. In the end, things were okay (yet sadly not okay.)
2. Once the nervousness subsided, I felt that it was okay to proceed with my Friday plans. I went with A. to see Z. in “Psst,” a live rendition of JASON’s graphic novels at Franklin Art Works. It was, to quote my sister, “very original.” The mere idea of turning two-dimensional black and white art into three-dimensional performance art/movement is, in itself, an ingenious one. “Psst” made it work in a number of ways. In order to transport the audience to that shifting border between two dimensions and three, the work started with a single, masked character in front of three cloth-covered frames. As he began the development of his character, the cloth was being adorned (by invisible painters from behind) with black paint. This became the setting, and it created a silent dialogue between The Janitor’s actions and his resulting (or existing?) surroundings. They were frames on many levels. Another mind-bending moment occurred when two of the characters were in the park. The park was created with, again, the background of white, cloth-covered frames. (This time the painting had been done beforehand.) At the beginning of the scene, the frames were side-by-side; this construction convinced me, as an audience member, to believe that I was watching a two-dimensional world. And then the frames moved: they were separated and shifted to different parts of the stage, creating a depth that while logically expected was still powerful to watch. It was so powerful, that it might be more accurate to say that the audience experienced this dimension change rather than just watched it. Also noteworthy were the characters themselves. Their two dimensional quality (and thus, distance, in my opinion) was enhanced by their masks (large, papier-mâché, anthropomorphic faces). The audience was allowed no connection with the characters' eyes due to these masks. When The Janitor and The Secretary found themselves underground, they were met with maskless inhabitants of this new place. These maskless faces were so dramatically painted—and their facial expressions so grotesque—that the change in effect was almost too galvanic to bear quietly. “Psst” was transportive.
3. And earlier, long lost (and twice) C. called. Yeah! I love when little reminders of the past bring such brightness to one’s day.