Spotlight On Being Naked

Written by Khris Lewin who plays Roland in Fêtes de la Nuit

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I was asked, as someone who’ll be taking his clothes off in the show, to write a little bit about being

Khris Lewin doing a tango move in rehearsal

naked on stage. I’m not much of a blogger– aside from a few overly expository Facebook comments, I don’t think I’ve ever blogged before– but I’m willing to give it a go; as with taking one’s clothes off, I suppose you just do it one pantleg at a time.

I’ll start by saying that I’ve heard a lot of people–and I don’t disagree with them– say that when they see nudity in the theatre, they often find it distracting; and by distracting, I mean that, in such cases, one has been drawn into a story, and has to some degree lost oneself in the lives of the characters onstage, when suddenly, one is startled out of it all at the sight of a bare boob. I’m not sure why it happens that way… and, of course, there are so many different scenarios in which people have gotten naked onstage.  I don’t want to generalize.  That said, I’ll try and venture a few ideas.

Many times, I think it’s because it just doesn’t feel organic to the scene.  It’s as if the playwright and/or director said, “she takes off her clothes at this point,” and when I see the show, the stage direction is so transparent that I can almost hear the playwright/director’s voice, calling for it. I’m reminded of a story in which the British director Peter Hall was having some trouble with a ten-hour Greek epic, and candidly made a plea to the chorus, saying something along the lines of, “you all signed a nudity clause in your contract. I’m aware you may not want to do it. But we need it. This show needs it. And with that in mind, I need… three volunteers.” And boy oh boy, if any scene in that play seemed contrived, that was sure it.

Or– having mentioned Peter Hall, now I’m thinking of Peter Brook– maybe it’s because of the empty space– here we all are in the same big room, and someone with whom we are sharing a mix of nitrogen and oxygen starts removing their clothes.  It can be a little jarring.

Bryen, the dungeon master of this virtual Fêtes de la Nuit online world, asked me, if I wanted to address it, to write a little as well about the gratuitousness of nudity in films versus how it’s portrayed in theatre; but having thought about it, I don’t think there’s that much of a difference.  I mean, of course, in the theatre, people are getting naked right in the same room as the audience; and in the movies, sometimes it’s Kate Winslet  or Halle Berry (or even John Malkovich, for the few of you who saw The Sheltering Sky) who’s getting naked… and in the movies, there’s obviously a ton of money on the line… but overall, I feel it’s not that different.  When I don’t buy it, I don’t buy it, regardless of it being on the stage or screen.

Sometimes, of course, it’s not bad at all.  Sometimes it really works.  The human form is, after all, quite miraculous in its beauty; and when it’s revealed to us in a way that seems authentic, and in the world of the play as it’s being presented to us, in such cases the experience can be transformative… for the performer and audience alike.  Without too much elaboration– (I really dislike “spoilers,” in movies or in plays) — I think this may be one of those shows. I don’t know why exactly… something about the very honest set of situations that Chuck Mee has created, in conjunction with Kim’s  pristinely clean aesthetic, and, of course, the work of the entire ensemble that makes it all come together.  Like I said, I don’t know. But I believe in it, and I hope that if you’re reading these words, you’ll get a chance to decide for yourself.

If you haven’t ordered your tickets yet, you can go to Brown Paper Tickets.  Seats are only $18 and the show runs from February 8 through February 27, with American Sign Language performances on February 20 and 24 at 8 p.m.