Theater Review

Dallas Theater Center puts Greek tragedy — and its audience — on the move

With each Greek tragedy he produces, Dallas Theater Center artistic director Kevin Moriarty has crept further and further away from what audiences might think of as "traditional" theater.

First it was Luis Alfaro's contemporary, tatted-up, prison-set Oedipus El Rey in the Wyly Theatre's sixth-floor studio (the first mainstage production to use that space). Then came a gritty Medea staged underneath the Kalita Humphreys Theater in its scene shop (audiences had to pick their way down a narrow stairway to reach their seats). Now it's his own adaptation of Sophocles' Electra, spread out over Annette Strauss Square in the AT&T Performing Arts Center.

Is it a cool concept, to shuttle the audience to four open-air locations, using headphones and fast-moving ushers to keep both the narrative thread and stray patrons together? Yes. Is this neat staging more interesting than Moriarty's choppy, murkily modernized script? Yes, a hundred times over.

The frisson of excitement begins when you check in and receive a headset and battery pouch, then are herded efficiently onto the Annette Strauss Square stage. Diggle's first set is the tomb of Agamemnon, shrouded in ghostly fabric that flutters in the night breeze (all evening shows begin at 8:30 pm to allow Aaron Johansen's lighting design to be seen). Audience members are advised to wear comfortable clothing and good walking shoes, for in addition to traipsing around the AT&T Performing Arts Center you might spend the show's 90 minutes standing, sitting, or even crouching around the action.

Those headsets allow us to hear the slain king (mellifluously voiced by Alex Organ) issuing orders of revenge to his only son, Orestes (SMU student Yusef D. Seevers, giving a stoic performance). They also pipe in eerie, atmospheric music designed by Broken Chord, and put each word, cry, grunt, and wail into sharp aural focus. This comes in handy as we move down onto the square's grassy lawn, which challenges the actors to sprint across its expanse if they want to emote even remotely close to each other.

The physicality of Moriarty's production is fascinating. Though the actors might be tiny figures spread out under the shimmering lights of downtown Dallas, there's a startling intimacy to their interactions. The small cast, headed with passion by former DTC company member Abbey Siegworth as the avenging Electra, seems remarkably at ease with their unusual environment, which in turn provides an exciting sense of false comfort to the audience.

False, because Moriarty doesn't want you to get comfortable. This is a Greek tragedy, after all, studded with sordid sexual misdeeds, murderous rage, and a tinge of madness.

Siegworth's Electra, dressed in shredded rags and shiny with sweat, twigs poking out of her matted hair (kudos to costumer Claudia Stephens and wig designer David Bova for their equally maniacal and elegant looks), is plotting to take down her mother and new stepfather for killing her dad, Agamemnon. Keep in mind that the late king had previously sacrificed Electra's older sister to help start the Trojan War and bring back his sister-in-law, Helen of Troy (it's a whole ancient Greek family thing).

Queen Clytemnestra (Sally Nystuen Vahle, Medea in Moriarty's famous production) rejoices when she receives word that her son, Orestes, is dead, for he can no longer challenge her for putting her lover, Aegisthus (Tyrees Allen), on the throne. Her daughters, Electra and Chrysothemis (Tiana Kaye Johnson), grieve the loss of their brother, though — surprise! — he and his guardian Paedagogus (David Coffee) are actually the messengers. That does not, as you can imagine, bode well for the king and queen.

All of this moves as quickly as the ushers hope the audience will, flying through Sophocles' story in CliffsNotes fashion and with an ungainly mix of classic speech and modern phrasing. Moriarty's script moves in odd spurts, dwelling overlong on Electra's grief and resentment but building almost no tension before Clytemnestra and Aegisthus' ultimate demise. The third setting where those deeds are done is also the weakest, letting us get up close with the actors yet providing awful sight lines for the climax.

An ethereal use of the reflecting pool in front of the Winspear Opera House closes the play on a serene note. It's at odds with all we have just witnessed, but it does make an awesome background for post-show selfies. And perhaps this time it's the experience, not the play, that's the thing.

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Dallas Theater Center's production of Electra runs through May 21.

Seevers and David Coffee (Paedagogus).

Yusef D. Seevers and David Coffee in Electra

Photo by Karen Almond

Seevers and David Coffee (Paedagogus).

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RIP Albert

Colorful and iconoclastic Dallas artist Albert Scherbarth dies at 70

Courtesy

Dallas artist Albert Scherbarth

Dallas artist Albert Scherbarth, known for his jubilant creativity which he displayed in a wide range of media, died on February 18; he was 70 years old. According to friends, he suffered a heart attack.

Scherbarth's myriad "canvases" ranged from printmaking to furniture to steel and metal working. He was a colorful presence in the Dallas art scene with a shock of thick hair that stood tall, definitive horn-rimmed glasses, and an unfiltered, no-nonsense personal style.

He was also a key figure in The Cedars district: an urban pioneer who settled in the area directly south of downtown Dallas in the early '80s when the neighborhood was a mostly-deserted collection of abandoned warehouses, before it became a major art nexus.

A post by Lee Harvey's, the Cedars District bar, said that "Some people don’t just live in a neighborhood — they leave their mark on it. Albert did exactly that. Through his art, his presence, and his time at our bar, he became part of the story here. We’ll miss him more than we can say. Rest easy Bert."

He was a real character, as well — a stocky physical presence (he played football in high school) who'd fix his stare upon you as if you were a critter to be studied.

One friend said, "I always feel that Albert is going to spring some meta shit on me every time i see him and he rarely disappoints. What a cool cat."

A native of Nebraska, Scherbarth moved to Dallas in 1979 to earn a master's in fine arts at the University of Dallas, Irving. After graduating in 1981, he began teaching in the community college district, including Brookhaven College, Northlake College, University of Texas at Dallas, and the Creative Art Center, as well as at Dallas' Arts Magnet.

Sculpture by Albert Scherbarth which appeared at the State Fair of Texas in 2018.Laura Walters/Facebook

After graduating from art school, he felt the need to do "real" work like his father, and took jobs in construction and woodwork, which helped shape the very physical nature of his art.

He was one of the early and many artists who resided in the Continental Gin Building, where he worked on his designs and commissions, fabricated other artists’ ideas, and helped galleries with installations, crating, and shipping.

Through the years he made furniture, got into fused and cast glass, poured concrete countertops, and painted, including a successful era of doing giant flower paintings. In his latter years, he acquired a welding machine and worked with builders, designers, and architects constructing screens, fences, furniture, and sculptures.

His works around town include a giant wine tree for Fleming Steakhouse in Frisco, and a sculpture named, "Cecil, age 12" up on Henderson Avenue at Capital Street which was was a finalists for the Henderson Art Prize. He also worked on the famed Bowler Hat sculpture in the Cedars.

In an interview with Voyage Dallas, he said, "I’m constantly looking for more meaning and more permanence in the work that I’m doing," and acknowledged that "I’ve been very, very fortunate to get a lot of really great commissions over the years. I’ve sold a lot of work and fallen into great studio situations – large spaces, cheap rent and wonderful landlords. Today, I think my ignorance of all the pitfalls ahead allowed me to storm through life and I have a certain stubbornness, a dogged determination to succeed."

"My grandfathers died before I came of age, my father died, my favorite uncle died so there was not much in the way of male guidance or perspective on how to be a man, so I’ve just kind of made it up on my own, stumbling through, winging it and I’m still alive, amazingly enough."

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