Photo by Joan Marcus
Like those of many fascinating, forgotten women who brightened Time’s gray chronicle, Tina Modotti’s life story must surely have twanged playwright/director Wendy Beckett’s heart strings with its ingredients: art, social justice, revolution, and lovers, lovers, lovers. Perhaps Beckett knew her. Modotti died in 1942 after having survived brutal interrogations, prison, revolutions in Mexico and in Spain, Communist party betrayal and all those famous lovers as well as the not so famous. She must have been, as we say, something.
Playwright Beckett tries to cram it all into her play. Well, not all; she begins after Tina, age thirteen, moved from Italy to join her father in California, around the time Tina tried her hand at everything, acting in early movies in early Hollywood, essaying photography, and men. She was most successful with men. Beckett establishes that her lover , Robo, was so captivated by her he did not refuse her going off to Mexico with the future famous Edward Weston as Weston’s mistress, Weston matching Robo’s magnificent sacrifice by leaving his wife and children for Tina. And in Mexico Tina learned photography from Weston, concentrating on the faces of the people while Weston filled his images with the landscapes that became his art. Idyllic. Until Tina discovered Communism as the salvation for the poor, common people which were her art. But art wasn’t enough. She flung herself into working for the poor, stopped her photographic work entirely by 1931 when Weston dared to say that all her photography was propaganda fodder. She devoted herself solely to advancing their lot through the Communist party. Which did, indeed, want her photographs as propaganda.
And that is the crux of Beckett’s play: does one’s devotion to art come first, before succor to the poor, to the oppressed, to humanity? Or even lovers? When Weston parted from Modotti to return to the United States, did she fall apart? No; conveniently there was Diego Rivera, attuned to her love of the people and the Communist party, making a name for himself, and cannily more self protective than she. Yes, he was a champion of the people but his art came first. And, as Tina found, so did his returning first love, Frida Kahlo. Tina, closer and closer to the Communist party ended up interrogated, jailed, surrounded by plots and schemes, eventually was banished from Mexico. There was a revolution going on in Spain. There, she would work for the people and for the Communist cause. Art, forgotten. Photography, forgotten. And the direction of the play? That, too, is forgotten. For where are we to go? Follow Tina in her devoted causes? No; she is betrayed when the Communists and the Nazis, devout enemies, made a pact for war conveniences, dominations.
Beckett has directed her own play gracefully, but could benefit from another, more insightful theatrical hand with interpersonal relationships; her actors are in their own spheres for the most part. Alysia Reiner, as Tina Modotti, is confident, arresting, interesting to watch, a cool center where there should be heat. Jack Gwaltney as Weston, is unsurprisingly subdued in an underwritten role. Marco Greco conveys more of himself and less of artist Rivera. Mark Zeisler, Josh Tyson and Andy Paris are attractive, authoritative, performing multiple roles. I also liked Dee Pelletier and Stacy Linnartz. Scenic designer John McDermott provides handsome settings and an ambiance borrowed heavily from DeChirico’s surrealist paintings, which may be a statement of its own: was Modotti’s reality surreal? Was Weston’s? Was Rivera’s? A respectful audience remained nonplussed. Ah, but we may find out. A trove of Modotti photographs has been unearthed and goes on exhibit soon.
Acorn Theater, Theater Row, 410 West 42nd Street. Tickets: $50. Tue 7 pm, Wed-Sat 8 pm. Mats, Wed 2 pm, Sun 3 pm. Ticketcentral.com or 212-279-4200.