"East Meets West, or Tries To"
Michael Zlabinger, Stephanie Wright Thompson. Photo: Erik Carter. |
From left: Stephanie Wright Thompson, Michael Zlabinger, Ya Han Chang, Johnny Wu. Photo: Erik Carter. |
However, Floyer’s inability to comprehend Zhang’s metaphoric
reference to an intangible essence in the pulse called the “mo” baffles him, and
he demands a more concrete explanation, although he finally has his eureka
moment when he’s able to relate it to something in his own experience. Zhang,
for his part, grows impatient with Floyer’s impractical information. Meanwhile,
Charlotte decides to leave him and marry Wang, albeit in the position of second
wife to first wife Wang Furen (Ms. Chang, again). Unlike what you might expect
if you’ve seen the 1991 Chinese move, RAISE THE RED LANTERN, the arrangement
proves quite compatible.
Campisi may write with her tongue planted in her cheek,
a tone supplemented by the light comedy manner of the production, but she makes
no attempt to suggest that the foundation of her play—John and Charlotte’s research
journey to China—is pure fiction. There was, indeed, a Dr. John Floyer (1649-1734),
who made his mark by, among other significant breakthroughs, introducing the practice of pulse measurement, for which
he created a special watch; the watch, in fact, has a part in Campisi’s play
and is even mentioned in a projection at the conclusion. His wife, though, was
named Mary, not Charlotte, which only heightens Campisi’s playful, if misleading, attitude
toward history. Floyer, also noted as an advocate of cold bathing (which features
in one scene), had wide-ranging scientific interests, among them Chinese
medicine. He never made a trip to China, however, which
would have been a momentous journey at the time. Nor was he anything like the bumptious Floyer in the play. And the idea of an upper-class British woman divorcing her husband and becoming a Chinese translator’s
second wife . . . ? You HAVE to be kidding.
[After posting this I found a respected reviewer's coverage of the play, in which he writes, after mentioning Floyer: "A true man of the Englightenment, he traveled to China in 1702, hoping to trade his Western scientific knowledge for an awareness of Asian healing wisdom. Among other things, he returned with an understanding of how to measure a patient's pulse rate, by calculating it over the course of a minute with the aid of a watch. If you believe Megan Campisi's play . . . Floyer lost his wife, Charlotte, in the process." If even reputable critics take such misinformation at face value and repeat it, one realizes how dangerous a game writers like Campisi play when they don't bother to acknowledge their distortion of the facts.]
[After posting this I found a respected reviewer's coverage of the play, in which he writes, after mentioning Floyer: "A true man of the Englightenment, he traveled to China in 1702, hoping to trade his Western scientific knowledge for an awareness of Asian healing wisdom. Among other things, he returned with an understanding of how to measure a patient's pulse rate, by calculating it over the course of a minute with the aid of a watch. If you believe Megan Campisi's play . . . Floyer lost his wife, Charlotte, in the process." If even reputable critics take such misinformation at face value and repeat it, one realizes how dangerous a game writers like Campisi play when they don't bother to acknowledge their distortion of the facts.]
While the play—which combines conventional dialogue
with narrative monologues—isn’t meant to be taken seriously as the depiction of
an historical episode, it does score several amusing points in its demonstration
of cultural confusion, even on so basic a level as when Floyer meets Zhang and
offers his hand to shake while Zhang, for his part, is in the process of bowing.
(I know, it’s been done before.) My guest at the play, who makes his living as
a consultant to Japanese businessmen going to work for American companies and
Americans going to work for the Japanese, appreciated the way the play captured
such moments, which are as common in intercultural relationships today as they
ever were.
THE SUBTLE BODY, a production of the Brooklyn-based
Gold No Trade company, is competently directed by Michael Liebenluft, and reportedly
played to sold-out houses in Shanghai. It is performed in both Mandarin and
English, the Mandarin either being translated simultaneously by Translator Wang
or projected on a screen above the stage. All of the English is subtitled in
Mandarin. (As too common with such theatre subtitles the ambient lighting tends
to wash them out and make them hard to read.) Grant Zhong did the actual translations.
Cate McCrea’s unit set, a simple structure of bamboo
poles nicely lit by Mary Ellen Stebbins, fits into one corner of the tiny
Theater C black box at 59E59 Theaters, with the audience facing it along two walls.
The period costumes designed by Isabelle Coler are simplified versions of early
18th-century British and Chinese clothing, most of them combining an attractive
combination of off-white/beige with touches of powder blue. An appealing
percussive sound design by Eric Sluyter keeps the scene transitions lively. This
being a romantic fantasy, both Charlotte and John are much younger and more
attractive than their historical counterparts. The acting standout is Ms. Chang,
who speaks only in Mandarin, but who demonstrates considerable versatility in
bringing wily wisdom to the male role of Doctor Zhang and wifely authority to
the female role of the first wife.
THE SUBTLE BODY offers some fundamental comments on
the differences between Chinese and Western medicine, at least as these existed
over 300 years ago, and one of the performances will even be followed by a
panel discussion involving medical specialists, but medicine is merely the
fulcrum for a play concerned with how peoples of dissimilar cultures
negotiate their differences. Despite being so preoccupied with human pulse
rates, it never quite managed to make mine race.
59E59 Theaters
59 East 59 Street, NYC
Through March 1