Eugene weekly., March 13, 2014, Page 25, Image 25

T H E AT E R
BY RICK LEVIN
THE AGONY AND
THE ECSTASY
JESSICA RAY,
ALEX MENTZEL
AND MATT OBER
Ecstasy: A Water Fable
is a beautiful production
that teeters into overly
deferential territory
S
piritual fracture and cultural alienation are at the
heart of Ecstasy: A Water Fable, a play by
Egyptian-American writer Denmo Ibrahim based
on the Sufi tale “When the Waters Were Changed.”
Directed by Michael Malek Najjar, UO’s
University Theatre’s production of Ibrahim’s work — a
triptych that flashes among three characters all seeking
some form of reconnection with their origins — is
technically adept and swift, clocking in at about 90
minutes. It is pretty to look at, and the traditional music,
played live on several Arabic instruments (such as the
zurna, ney and djembe) by local band Americanistan is
hypnotic and, at times, haunting.
And yet, despite Ecstasy’s formal excellence (or
perhaps because of it) the play, for me, was oddly inert. I
engaged with the stories — of Pipeman (Alex Mentzel) in
his frantic search for God, of the Picture Lady (the
excellent Kiara Bernhart) and her dislocation from past
and family, of the Westernized Mona (Jessica Ray, also
excellent), a stranger in a strange land — but they left me
mostly unmoved. The production lacked some essential
passion, as though too much respect had been paid to its
supposedly exotic nature, leeching it of blood. At times, it
seemed a museum piece, a diorama of whirling dervishes.
Of course, this could just be me. As a proud Protestant
with a deep aversion to transcendental tourism, I’m
naturally suspicious whenever Eastern mysticism gets
transplanted to our native soil. It’s not that I’m opposed to
seeking communion with the Universal Spirit or Divine
Source, as practiced in Sufism; it’s more to the point that
Western presentations of foreign concepts and stories often
succumb to a dynamic of exotic anxiety, where sacred
things are treated with such overweening respect that they
are robbed of their vitality. At times, Ecstasy felt more
anthropological than dramatic, like a primer.
Much of the problem of Ecstasy, I believe, lays in this
tension between fidelity to the Sufi tale and translation of
its unfamiliar concepts into the universal language of the
stage. As playwright, Ibrahim gives the audience a point of
access by roughing up and modernizing some of her
characters, as when the Picture Lady hilariously spouts
obscenities during her monologue. Such moments work
well to de-romanticize what’s going on, to make it breathe
with real life, but it’s not enough. The elements of Sufism,
such as the cultural importance of water, remain abstruse
and confusing, hence the elaborate notes explaining the
meaning of the play in the program.
None of which is to say this production is a failure.
Taken moment by moment, Ecstasy is full of beautiful
movement and song, and it offers intriguing glimpses, as it
flashes among its three central stories, into the source of
our human desire for (re)connection with each other and
the universe at large. The play is richly suggestive, even if
the individual scenes don’t always resolve into a coherent
story. In a sense, Ecstasy falls victim to the very
fragmentation it depicts. But even artistic fragmentation
needs a kind of unity to give it voice, and this production
remains less than the sum of its parts, fascinating as they
are. ■
Ecstasy: A Water Fable runs through March 16; free for up students, $12
students and seniors, $14 general
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