Rinde Eckert, who wrote and composed this work and plays the role of Nathan, the piece's protagonist, is a fixture among NYC's dance and theatre companies. The music he has composed for the event is a haunting mish-mash of harmonies and musical phrases that don't quite fit. The music wanders at times, perfectly echoing Nathan's own mental state. The play seems to be lost at sea, the floating wreckage of a once beautiful ship battered by a gale. The production as a whole does a beautiful job of marrying form and content. This union, the beauty of the text, and an excellent performance by Eckert should produce an evening of moving theatre. But something stops it from being satisfying. A mis-step at the start, as well as a hit-or-miss performance by Nora Cole (as Nathan's infallable muse, and as the love interest in an unnecessary sub-plot) were slight bumps along a road that was beautiful yet elusive. Why?

The evening starts off well, as we are plunged into complete darkness and hear a disembodied voice describe Nathan's illness. Lights come up on an over-played, under-funny physical comedy bit that worried me for a second... what if the rest of the play was like this? Luckily, it wasn't. Beautiful music, and a beautiful story follow. The only problem is that the disconnected form, which perfectly illustrates Nathan's interior life, infects the acting in way that, stylistic choice or not, made me struggle to complete the journey with Nathan. Moments of real candor and self-revelation were right next to moments that were patently false, or (in the case of Cole) bordering on caricature.

I was upset with the show, and later had a feeling that's exactly what Eckert wanted. Nathan cannot connect and is frustrated to the very core of his humanity. We can't maintain a consistent relationship to what we see on stage, and are also frustrated. The play won't let us cry and get it over with... we are forced to take Nathan, and his illness, with us.

Matt Cosper, January 14, 2002