Pictures at an Exhibition, presented by Centastage at Boston Center for the Arts, through May 23.
Cambridge playwright Michael Bettencourt's Pictures at an Exhibition is an idea - two ideas, in fact - in search of dramatic form and structure. As presented in its world premiere production by Centastage, the shortcomings of the script suggest that a rewrite should have been the next step.
Act I is loosely based on a photographer's arrest at a photo lab for taking nude pictures of her son, and it's a loaded subject, involving the hot-button issues of smut, child abuse and artistic freedom vs. the protection of children.
But the issues swirl around an undercooked presentation with characters speaking what sounds like declarative sentences from the old "Dick and Jane" readers. It doesn't help that the fictional character of Margaret Pasqualini, the quasi-artist at the center of the controversy, is portrayed as an upper-class dilettante, brought to self-indulgent life by a quest for self- expression.
The second act, based on Anna Deavere Smith's accounts of women in prison, is a totally different play, connected only by Pasqualini's jail sentence. She is thrown into a cell with Vera Cortez, a Hispanic woman doing 25 years as the accomplice to her daughter's murder by an abusive companion.
As played by the capable Jacqui Parker, Cortez takes charge - of the relationship as well as the play. Her restrained yet heart-wrenching performance is the redeeming feature of Pictures at an Exhibition.
If only healing the rifts of our divided society were as easy as Bettencourt implies. Within the 30 days of Pasqualini's sentence, she and Cortez have become soulmates. And the street-wise Cortez agrees to a photo shoot, allowing Pasqualini to embark on another feel-good project that does nothing concrete to change her cell-mate's situation.
Director Joe Antoun has loaded the play with too many changes of scenes (designed by Jeff Gardiner) that pair multiple-sized blocks with cell gates.
In Bettencourt's version of the story, no one is exempt from blame, but the reactions of the characters - the prissy clerk in the photo lab, the venal journalists, the overzealous prosecutors - are too predictable to be true.
Parker notwithstanding, the cast assembled by Antoun is inadequate, but they have been hung in the spotlight without protection from the playwright. Elizabeth Duff as Pasqualini is a sympathetic if muddled presence who could have used some assertiveness training, and a spine.
© Copyright Boston Herald Library May 12, 1998