Passion is infectious, even if you don’t necessarily share it. That’s what makes Phelim McDermot’s not-quite-one-man-show about his obsession with the music of Philip Glass so appealing, even if you never fully succumb to its spell. McDermot, a founder and co-artistic director of the acclaimed Improbable theater company, has loved Glass’ music since he was a teenager, when he played the classic album Glassworks on repeat (yes, it feels redundant) much to the annoyance of his father, who complained “That music is driving me a bit mad.” Much later, he went on to work with the composer professionally, staging acclaimed productions of his operas Satyagraha and Akhnaten. Now, with his 2019 theatrical piece originally presented at the Manchester International Festival, the Olivier Award-winning McDermott attempts to translate the story of that obsession into extremely personal terms.
Personal, but not particularly cohesive, as the piece has a rambling, digressive quality much akin to letting your mind wander as you listen to a piece of music. Fortunately, that music happens to be that of Glass, who composed ten original selections for Tao of Glass and even serves as a sort of ghostly presence, his performance of one of them reproduced exactly by a sophisticated, modern-day version of a player piano onstage.
McDermott, a highly engaging presence, delivers a series of loosely connected anecdotes as well as philosophical musings devoted to such topics as the three layers of consciousness, defined as Consensus Reality, Dreamland, and Essence and visualized by three large concentric rings floating above the stage. We’re also informed about Kintsugi, the highly metaphorical Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by gluing the shards together with a glue made from precious metals to create a new beautiful object.
If all of that sounds a bit high-toned, the performer, accompanied by three puppeteers and four musicians, relieves the pretension with more amusing down-to-earth stories, including the time as a young man when he followed Glass through the streets of London to a sushi restaurant, astonished that no one else seemed to recognize the famed composer. He recreates a meeting with Maurice Sendak over a proposed collaboration with him and Glass on an adaptation of the author/illustrator’s book In the Night Kitchen, with Sendak, whom he describes as a “grumpy, gay Oscar the Grouch,” proclaiming about the potential depiction of the young boy at the book’s center, “It’s gotta have the pee pee!” With the help of the puppeteers, he presents a brief shadow puppet version of the theater piece based on the book that he never got to create.
Tao of Glass, co-directed by McDermott with Kirsty Housley (Peter Relton is credited as “Remount Director”), delivers imaginative visuals accompanying the performer’s narration. Particularly evocative is the scene in which McDermott, after describing the altered state of consciousness he’s experienced in floatation tanks, is enveloped by billowing sheets of paper featuring musical notations. And when he talks about his young son, we see an adorable pint-sized puppet who cheekily tells his father to ask Glass “how to do better composing.”
Not all of the episodes are impactful, including a long story about an expensive glass (pun clearly intended) coffee table broken by movers that fails to land with the intended metaphorical impact. And some go on for too long, such as a segment in which McDermott lies on the stage which revolves around a piano playing Glass’ music. Indeed, the piece squanders much of its impact with its self-indulgent, two-and-a-half hour running time.
But in its most gorgeous moments, of which there are many, Tao of Glass fully conveys the rapture of being lost in the sort of rapture that only great art can induce. It’s both a memorably theatrical memoir and passionate fan letter.
Tao of Glass opened March 30, 2023, at the NYU Skirball Center and runs through April 8. Tickets and information: nyuskirball.org
