The Ruins: A Play Through Music
Hosted by the Guthrie Theater
The Guthrie theater is no stranger to fostering new works but the latest world premiere is one that certainly is destined to be one of the most memorable. Reintroducing audiences to the Dowling Studio, George Abud’s playwriting debut, is one of the most poignant and honest works about assessing our lives when the end of our lives is in sight.
The Ruins: A Play Through Music tells the story of two unnamed individuals who come together in one room to wait out their inevitable death which is mere days away. Both musicians, one a cellist and the other a master of the Oud, they begin to share their life’s beliefs and philosophies through music. While they have a range of differences in their assessment of the lives they have lived, there is one constant. Music and the power that it holds.
Set in fictional reality where people are aware that their death is nearing, Abud has created such a vibrant world without needing any exposition to set the stage. It is clear from the moment it begins what kind of place the characters are inhabiting. A concrete slab with a giant crack down the middle, surrounded by plain white walls, two simple chairs, and a lumpy mat to sleep on. What better place to spend your final days?
From when the audience enters the room, “1” is simply existing in the space. As he reads from his book of poetry and periodically stares into the beyond, we understand him. He is a man who knows where he is going and that if he is going to wait around, he will make the most of it through absorbing himself in his art. When “2” enters and mistakenly interrupts his song, it propels “1” to understand and direct “2’s” life and what she has found to be meaningful.
Not only has George Abud written a searing play, he assumes the role of “1” and what a performance he delivers. There is never a doubt that he understands and lives the words he has written. From the moment he strums his first note on the Oud, the audience is in his grasp. He plays with such ferocity and skill, almost as if speaking to us through the instrument (which is addressed later in the piece).
As the stage is framed in the round, Abud is able to share his prowess with the audience from every angle. When he isn’t looking at “2”, he is facing the audience as if offering us some introspection into what is going on inside his mind.
Portraying his radiant partner in this venture is Sydney Shepherd, a remarkably talented cellist and actor who is the perfect compliant to Abud. She never falters in her conviction to prove that she is just a much as an intellectual equal to her “roommate”. Even in the subtlest moments of vulnerability, she captures and hold every audience member’s attention. Her voice is ethereal and her skills on her instrument are magnificent.
Abud’s script is not just full of philosophy and music, it is extremely funny and full of warmth. His understanding of character development in a small amount of time is extremely impressive. We know these characters and their motivations from the first few minutes and wait, and hope that they will come to be somewhat friends, if not more.
While the dialogue at times is flirty, it never truly crosses into romance which makes the connection between “1” and “2” more honest. They are not trying to woo each other but instead are trying to come to an understanding of what it means to find happiness and companionship so close to the end of their lives.
The piece is truly about art and how it can bring us together and how it allows us to express our emotions without saying a word. As “2” eloquently says, “Holding your hand is a gesture but how I hold your hand is art”. Abud’s script is full of lyrical poetry that simply transcends everyday dialogue and gives the audience a new way to appreciate the spoken word.
Understanding the text perhaps the most besides Abud and Shepherd is director Osh Ashruf who brings this gorgeous production to the stage. HIs framing of the piece in such a small space is remarkably intimate. Not just because the space is physically small but he directs his actors to meet the audience at the edges of the stage so often, giving the audience the ability to feel as if we are the walls they are speaking to.
His use of physical space between his actors is beautifully staged. As much as we want the characters to physically interact, they don’t have that ability and therefore we are forced to suffer along side them. It isn’t just a viewing experience, it is more of a shared longing for intimacy, even just a simple touch of the hands. A truly beautiful way to see the piece.
George Abud’s piece isn’t just a remarkable piece of theater, it is visceral experience that will stick with you long after the curtain falls. It signals a triumphant return to the Dowling Studio and it is sure to usher in a slew of just as affecting pieces of art int he near future.
