Sight Unseen

Reviewed by Holly Bartges

One would never buy a horse, “sight unseen” that is if they had any horse sense. One might buy a painting “sight unseen” depending upon the reputation of the artist. I’d buy a Charlie Russell painting “sight unseen” in a nano second if possible.

Marty Lindsey, Carolyn Valentine and Jarrad Holbrook in Paragon Theatre Company’s production of Sight Unseen.

Relationships are quite a different story. There is always a great “sight unseen” behind the knowing and familiar.

Paragon’s Regional Premiere of Donald Margulies’ play Sight Unseen in the wrong hands could be a disaster. Not in the hands of Paragon.

Margulies dissolves time and space to explore the rise of an unknown artist to celebrity, and to dig through the why’s and how come’s of a relationship between Jonathan, (Marty Lindsey), and Patricia, (Carolyn Valentine) that crumbled under its own weight. This is one play that demands astute attention at all times or one will walk away asking, “What just happened?” as was witnessed on Opening Night. A young man turned to his date with perplexed furrows creasing his brow while the young lady beamed. She paid attention. She got it. He wanted to be entertained and got lost in time and space.

Directed by Mare Trevathon, Paragon’s production floats with a magnificent cast who carried shovels to rehearsals to dig through Sight Unseen’s significance. In the process, along with the outstanding crew, they discovered a rough gem they polished to a high sheen.

In a rustic practical farmhouse in Norfolk, England Patricia lives a relatively quiet life with her somewhat practical husband, Nick, (Jarrad Holbrook). A man of few words, but with hysterical stares that can cut through steel along with an innate ability to show up at inappropriate times. Holbrook brings to Nick a suspicious unconcerned attitude that brings giggles to the surface. Nick certainly doesn’t see himself as a funny man, but his poignant glazed stares humorously tell a sad story.

A phone call interrupts the daily routine. Jonathan is on his way for a visit. From the States, the budding young artist is on his way to Paris for his first showing. Why? Why is he coming now? Going to Paris isn’t exactly in the neighborhood of Norfolk.

The opening scene actually has Jonathan entering the farmhouse. No one around until an unconcerned concerned Nick shuffles into the kitchen. Lindsey’s lends Jonathan an uneasy nervousness that is strikingly believable. So why is he nervous visiting good friends? OK, he doesn’t know Nick and Holbrook’s delightful Nick doesn’t exactly roll out the “red carpeted” welcome mat.

Valentine provides Patricia with an edge of hesitancy “bookended” by protective armor. Patricia and Nick run an excavation dig. She says she’s happy but she’s not and Valentine does a wonderful job of showing both sides.

Several years ago Jonathan and Patricia were a hard and fast item. In the States until he called it quits when she unknowingly overstepped her boundary. Excavation gave her perspective, and she could bury Jonathan years ago. England allowed her time and space to regroup. Nick provided security. Love no longer mattered.

A new scene takes Jonathan to a London art gallery where Grete is interviewing him. Sharp, astute, Suzanne Favette sees to it Grete wears her sarcasm as tightly pulled together as her hair and her expressions. Jonathan’s discomfort tumbles into his thoughts and his words.

The next scene moves back to the farmhouse an hour before Jonathan actually arrives with flustered discussion between Patricia and Nick. Nick will sleep in their bed, she decides which doesn’t make Nick at all happy.

The death of his mother plays a significant role in Jonathan and Patricia’s broken relationship. An invasion of privacy pushes him against the wall to a point of no recovery.

So why is he there? To say he was sorry? To mend the brokenness? She’s married, granted out of convenience, but still, what could he hope for? What does he want?

There’s a painting he did of her when they first met hanging above the fireplace. Leaving early the next morning, he takes the painting. No, he says, not to steal, but to borrow for his show.

Aha! Jonathan’s nervousness takes on definition. He didn’t show up at the farmhouse to renew a relationship with Patricia. He wanted the painting for his show. For Jonathan, the sight unseen for him was the farmhouse in England, meeting Nick, and unexpectantly renewing what he loved about Patricia.

The back and forth flipping of the scenes tells the story behind the story. Here is an artist who has lost his way through the din of celebrity. Colors tend to run together when focus is teased into another direction of fame and money. Relationships, no matter how strong, how endearing, or how meaningful always fly on the wings of fragility, a sight unseen by most of humanity. And there’s always a story behind the story. The deeper the dig, the more unseen surprises emerge through dirt and grime.

Margulies’ script demands the utmost attention from everyone concerned, and everyone concerned does exactly that. David LaFont’s pragmatic and attractive set design allows the helter skelter of time and space to flow smoothly from one thought form to another. Brynn Starr Coplan’s costume design tells the characters’ stories in colorful fabrics. Jacob Welch’s lighting design reflects its own questionable sight unseen of hidden motives, unexplained surprises.

The actors gel the chemistry between the characters even when it can be assumed chemistry doesn’t exist, and Trevathan miraculously ties it all together.

To shake loose cobwebs from the brain, to see behind the scenes, to unravel misaligned relationships, to raise questions, to seek unexplored answers, to avoid falling into overly excavated ruts, Paragon’s production of Sight Unseen is a most definite Must See. It does what theatre does best reflect the seen and unseen, the obvious and muddled, and the fractured pieces that turn everything into a whole.

Call now, right now, for reservations.