A WHITE painting hangs at the center of the stage. Standing at about five feet and four inches tall, it is nearly blank, marked by faint splashes of gray and a hint of red.
One might argue that it is a moving, marvelous masterpiece. But at the cost of 200 grand, it raises a familiar, pressing question: What really is art?
Repertory Philippines opened its production Art on June 13 at the REP Theater in Eastwood, Quezon City as part of its 88th season. Originally premiering in 1994, Art is a one-act play written by Yasmina Reza, a French playwright known for her works that reflect middle-class struggles and anxieties. Art centers on three friends whose differing opinions on contemporary art expose the strains of their decade-long friendship.
Two years after its French debut, Art made it to international stages through a translation by British playwright Christopher Hampton. It garnered critical acclaim and won the Best New Comedy at the 1997 Olivier Awards and the Best Play at the 1998 Tony Awards. Reza is also known for her play God of Carnage, which also won Best Play at the Olivier Awards in 2009.
For this production, Repertory Philippines brought back director Victor Lirio, a Gawad Buhay nominee who made his Philippine theatre directorial debut with Betrayal in Rep’s 87th season. Under the direction of Lirio, Art transcended the boundaries of comedy, with its philosophical and dramatic tones being amplified.
Art begins with Serge (Martin Sarreal), a dermatologist who possesses a deep appreciation for modern and contemporary art, purchasing an all-white painting that he proudly shows to his friend Marc (Freddy Sawyer). Beginning as a casual reveal, it quickly spirals into an argument when Marc reacts with disbelief and disdain after learning of its steep price. Their dispute, both humorous and hostile, lays the foundation for the cracks in their friendship. Sarreal and Sawyer deliver this early tension with sharp timing, setting the tone for the emotional unravelling that follows.
In between their dispute is Yvan (Brian Sy), the anxious peacekeeper who mirrors the opinion of whoever he is with. On one hand, he agrees with Marc and dismisses the painting as ridiculous; on the other hand, he finds it moving when Serge explains its value. After walking a delicate line between his two friends, Yvan breaks through by the end, releasing all the emotions he bottled for the sake of Marc and Serge.
Lirio employs a clever directorial choice: the painting is only revealed halfway throughout the play. Unlike Marc who is left with immediate disdain, the audience can only rely on Serge’s description, creating suspense and a sense of hope that the painting is as moving as the latter claims. By the time the painting is revealed, the audience is forced to confront their own expectations, just as the characters do.
As the play unraveled, the actors each delivered standout performances that peeled back the layers of the characters in a suspenseful and anticipatory way. Sarreal captured Serge’s frustration and vulnerability beneath his cultivated taste. This was evident in scenes where he shifted between fixating on the painting and justifying his purchase through his nuanced, artistic knowledge. He delivered just the right amount of cockiness and humility to the role, bordering between a friend and the art aficionado that he prides himself to be. Through Serge’s silence and bursts of emotions, Sarreal’s performance revealed a man whose passion for art is deeply rooted in his yearning for validation, recognition and control.
Sawyer’s portrayal of Marc sits at the opposite end of the spectrum; bold, outspoken and fearless—especially during the scene where he storms into Serge’s apartment as he gradually raises his voice and turns a casual hangout into an emotional confrontation. He charged his lines with certainty and exasperation while embodying Marc, a man who sees honesty as loyalty and disagreement as betrayal.
Sarreal and Sawyer generated a powerful dynamic by capturing the air in the theater and transforming it into tension, pulling the audience closer to the edge of their seats.
Given the play’s dialogue-driven narrative, there were times when the tension relied too heavily on words that stalled the flow, especially during their prolonged debate over the value of art. Although this choice may seem intentional to represent how one intellectualizes to avoid vulnerability, it made the characters seem unnatural, which could have possibly caused a disconnect from the play’s already immersive moments.
In the trio, Sy grounded the friends as Yvan who resembled a quiet hum that slowly built up into a desperate crescendo. Sy’s performance offered equal parts of comical relief and depth, especially in his remarkable monologue where he unleashed his personal chaos that invited audience members to both laugh and empathize with him.
Towards the end, Yvan becomes a star of his own, stepping out from the shadows of being the trio’s doormat and revealing the depth of someone who has been long underestimated. Sy delivered this shift with heart and precision, proving that Yvan is not just the comedic mediator but the emotional core of the play.
During the early parts of the play, the emotional bond between the characters felt more intellectual than personal, slowing down the pace for the conflict’s build-up. Although it worked to reflect on the artistic aspect of the painting, it delayed the payoff of their unraveling towards the end.
Despite the play’s minimalism, production designer Miguel Urbino succeeded in immersing the audience through a subtle yet effective set. French panels framed the stage to mimic a Parisian apartment, while the limited furniture helped create a wide canvas which the actors painted with their performances. Complementing the set was the clever use of lighting, which seamlessly guided the audience between the characters’ perspectives and inner monologues.
Instead of merely laughing at the banter and the exaggerations of the trio, Lirio invited the audience to ponder the value of not just art but friendship, weaving the complexities of relationships with contemporary views on art.
However, the philosophical debates occasionally overshadowed the themes in some points of the play. Rather than immersing the audience in the personal stakes of the characters, some scenes gravitated towards abstract discussions on art, distancing themselves from the emotional vulnerability that the play hinted at.
Only towards the end does Lirio steer the production back to its emotional roots, particularly in the latter half, when the conflict about the painting revealed what the trio have buried beneath their friendship
There is hope in Art
In collaboration with The Hope Project, Repertory Philippines showcased artworks from inmates from Lipa City Jail. Founded by Jail Chief Inspector Aris Villaester, the project introduced inmates to art therapy as means of healing and self-expression.
Before entering the REP Theater, audience members are greeted by an exhibit in the lobby showcasing artworks created by inmates through the program. Each piece is available for purchase from June 13 to Art’s last show on June 29, with proceeds directed towards the legal and medical fees of the artists.
Select works from The Hope Project also appeared on stage as part of Art’s set—including the infamous white painting bought by Serge—seamlessly integrating the initiative’s impact into the heart of the performance.
In the end, Art is not merely a play about a painting. It is about boundaries and what happens when people start to cross it. Through Lirio’s direction and the moving collaboration with The Hope Project, Repertory Philippines transcended the purpose of performance. The stage became a space for reflection; on friendship, on pride and one’s capacity to find meaning where others might not. F
