An Off-Broadway Theatre Review: DR2’s All the Beauty in the World
By Acton
Stepping off a bright and busy street off Union Square, we enter a dark, hushed space resembling a chapel. Three worn wooden benches stand like pews, and three radiant golden frames hang nearby. Into this sanctuary strolls a uniformed security guard (Patrick Brinkley, also the writer) in All the Beauty in the World (directed and scenic design by Dominic Dromgoole), offering a serene and humorous evening of reflection and contemplation.
Bringley has what must be the best boring job ever: security guard for the Metropolitan Museum of Art. If you have to have a job standing around for 12 hours a day (which, he points out, can feel shorter or much longer depending on whether you’re standing on wood, marble, or concrete), you could do much worse than having one of the world’s great art collections for company.
As he tells stories about his life and work, representative details from the Met’s collection of paintings appear in the frames beside him (projection design by Austin Switser), supporting or illustrating the narrative. This is not an art history lecture, but from time to time, Bringley provides some light historical context for the work, along with personal observations gleaned from hours and hours of gazing. Although some of the art evokes strong reactions, it’s always discreetly kept within the frames, which he imagines as a series of windows into other worlds.
We find out that he has a knack for acquiring low-level positions at revered cultural institutions: one of his first jobs is working the New Yorker Festival, where he introduces Michael Chabon to Stephen King, impressing himself before realizing that he’s never read either of them. In a city of desperate strivers, he seems content to admire the circumstances he’s found himself in rather than search out a foothold to launch a media career.
As he tells it, he leads an everyday and relatable life, and while the illness and death of his brother and later the birth of his children give All the Beauty in the World structure, I most enjoyed the behind-the-scenes stories of life at the Met: the maze of underground tunnels and pipes where art is stored and transported, the tailor and even a foundry that are on call to repair relics. The art of resting while standing up, or how to take a power nap on a locker room bench. The odd questions that guests of the museum have posed to him are especially amusing.
Bringley’s storytelling is lilting and calm (maybe a little too calm—I was grateful for an audience participation segment when bracing overhead lights lit up the theater), and, much like the Met itself, All the Beauty in the World provides a peaceful interlude before re-joining the bustling crowds outside.
