‘Helen Goldwyn’s portrayal of Krasner is enticing […] bold, acerbic and undoubtedly determined to “just paint”.’
Park Theatre has been transformed into a corner of a famous barn turned art studio that was once graced by two giants of American Abstract Expressionism. Cian Griffin’s play Lee sheds light on a previously shadowed Lee Krasner (1908-1984), otherwise known as Mrs Pollock.
Set in 1969, the play begins as Lee (Helen Goldwyn) enters her studio to start another day’s work on a painting she is having trouble completing entitled Portrait in Green (1969). Dressed in a black smock, against the white walls of the studio, she now paints in the space that her late husband, the famed Jackson Pollock (Tom Andrews), used to occupy. Her flow is interrupted when Hank (Will Bagnall), a young local delivery boy, asks for her input on his art school portfolio, which she reluctantly agrees to glance at. What follows is a conversation that leads to a series of personal revelations for both characters concerning why people become artists and the complexities of artistic ownership within a marriage.
Helen Goldwyn’s portrayal of Krasner is enticing, she stays on stage throughout the 75 minute production with her red lips, like Krasner’s, permanently pursed. Goldwyn encapsulates the cutting force of a woman whose experiences have caused her to be bold, acerbic and undoubtedly determined to “just paint”. The hard quality of Lee’s character makes for brutal, awkward and funny interactions with the soft and wide-eyed Hank, as she presses him to confront some home truths and unconscious biases.
Griffin’s script combines art historical fact with narrative fiction, and clearly displays his in depth research on the subject. However, I found his use of information to be somewhat heavy handed, at times the dialogue felt didactic. Throughout the play Lee seems to lecture Hank about art history, Lee asks him to name one woman artist he can’t and instead points at her. The result occasionally causes Krasner to become a sort of moral-mouthpiece to state truisms about the female experience within the art world to a fictional uninformed Hank.
This master student dynamic confused me as Hank announces to Lee that he “wants to be an artist” yet seems to know nothing about art or who he is talking to – he asks Lee if she has ever been to the MOMA. It’s clear Griffin uses Hank to, in an on the nose way, highlight how art education and systems have, historically, failed to include women artists or attempt to venerate them in line with their male counterparts. I cannot deny that my personal interest in art history has caused me to find this approach to not sit quite right with me; but nonetheless I do believe it is Begall’s performance that turns this otherwise ignorant or naive quality in Hank into charm, his energy on stage compels you to root for his character he’s an exciting performer to watch.
Ian Nicholas’ excellently detailed set design elevates this production, the white walls are littered with flecks of expressive paint, and jam jars are filled with brushes as well as several
unstretched painted canvases line not only the set flats but also the black box walls of the auditorium. What Nicholas creates in the intimate venue is a realistic artistic space that completely involves the audience in Krasner’s creative world. Coupled with Jason Moore’s direction, which is founded in naturalism, the show maintains a steady pace with no interval. What I like about Moore’s direction is that there’s nothing, ironically, abstract about the performance; there are no movement sequences or big shifts in lighting. The performances feel real, and Goldwyn even paints on stage.
One of my favorite exchanges was when Andrews and Goldwyn are both looking at a painting, situated behind the audience, in silence. It’s a strange moment where you do feel like you are watching Krasner and Pollock having an everyday moment in the studio. Andrew’s performance as Pollock is weighty, and although his time on stage is sporadic he leaves a lasting impact. His character is by no means likeable, which gives greater foundation to Lee’s new sense of liberation a finished Prophecy (1956), hangs in the studio which she was only able to complete once she became a widow. Lee is a compelling show addressing how Lee Krasner made a living in the shadow of a man, it emotionally reveals what one is willing to give up or lose for the things they love. Although the twists at times feel predictable, this is a show I believe people should see; in an age where biopics pervade many of the stories on view, this play is an exciting take on the genre. It breathes life into the right kind of story and leaves you wanting to know more about her.