Miriam (Cynthia Nixon) — whose name is projected as black-against-white on Derek McLane’s predominately black set — is a successful performance artist. The first information we learn about her in Jordan Seavey’s The Seven Year Disappear is imparted by son-manager Naphtali (Taylor Trensch).
He brings Miriam news that the Whitney Museum of American Art has just commissioned another performance artist for a piece, someone she claims to love and someone of whom she is clearly envious. This infuriates Miriam, who is only partially calmed when Naphtali follows by informing his volatile mom that MOMA is just about to commission her.
Toward the end of Seavey’s 90-minute intermissionless work, Naphtali is at MOMA introducing the piece resulting from Miriam’s seven-year preparation. He refers to it as “art that defies definition, art that challenges your comfort zone, and, yes, art that may test your patience.”
[Read Melissa Rose Bernardo’s ★★★☆☆ review here.]
He could just as well be introducing The Seven Year Disappear, which in no uncertain terms is art that defies definition and absolutely crashed through my comfort zone and sorely tested my patience.
It did occur to me that patrons for whom performance art remains something of a lesser-known genre won’t begin to understand what Seavey is talking about. Perhaps, however, Seavey intends The Seven Year Disappear solely for art-world cognoscenti. But even they will not be spared comfort-zone stomping. As the title hints, the piece covers the year 2009-16, beginning in the later year, when Miriam learns she must begin readying the new commission.
As the years revert chronologically to 2009, Miriam pulls her titular seven-year disappearance. Well, not quite chronologically. The years kind of move backwards and forwards, as they did in Seavey’s widely admired Homos, or Everyone in America. And despite John Narun’s projections intended to keep observers up to date (down to date?), confusion emerges.
That’s not the only problem. There are the nine characters. While Trensch plays Naphtali, Nixon — with a severe haircut — isn’t just Miriam taking a seven-year powder. Without changing her uniform-like black outfit (Trensch wears one, too, Qween Jean the costumer), she plays seven other characters.
These are men and women Naphtali encounters during Miriam’s long absence. He seeks out some whom he thinks may have clues to her whereabouts. Foremost is Wolfgang, who preceded Naphtali as Miriam’s manager and with whom Naphtali has a homosexual liaison. Uh-huh, Naphtali is gay as well as, apparently off and on, an alcoholic and drug abuser.
He crosses paths with others who aren’t likely to have news of Miriam but who might supply other needs. Deciding at one point to leave art behind for politics, specifically Hillary Clinton’s 2016 campaign, he meets colleague Tomás in a chat that doesn’t put Hillary in a good light. Shortly after Miriam’s mysterious scram, Naphtali hires Nicole to find her. Brayden, a curator, and Michael are gay dates. Aviva is an actress-friend, Kaitlyn a manicurist who aspires to performance art and is a Miriam idolator.
Granted, playwright Seavey gives them all much to say, and much of it intriguing. He writes dialog that crackles and rasps, although whether audiences will want to hear about Naphtali’s wilder sexual activities is in question. The characters and timeframes, so regularly juggled as they are, may not be conducive to easy absorbing. Moreover, they eventually impress as pretentious.
Most memorable about The Seven Year Disappear are Nixon and Trensch. He has the easier assignment, of course. Always a magnetic performer, he fully conveys Naphtali’s complexities and perplexities. Nixon, versatile since her first stage appearance at 14, rises to the challenges, although completely differentiating the wide range of figures with little help from accessories is intermittently a drawback. And is she using her often raised voice carefully?
Not able completely to keep all Seavey’s twists clear, Scott Elliott nonetheless directs with style. He’s greatly helped by lighting director Jeff Croiter, sound designers Rob Milburn and Michael Bodeen, and perhaps most of all by projection designer Narun. Despite Seavey’s many distracting features, they all contribute to an unusually elegant production, maybe elegant in spite of itself.
The Seven Year Disappear opened February 25, 2024, at Signature Center and runs through March 31. Tickets and information: thenewgroup.org
