(Not to be copied without authors’ permission)

PHALLACY

(A play)

By Carl Djerassi

Program Note

Some time ago, Professors Alfred Vendl and Bernhard Pichler of the University for Applied Arts in Vienna drew my attention to a superb life-sized bronze of a naked young man that for several centuries had been described as a Roman original. Recent modern chemical analysis in their laboratory revealed that it was a Renaissance cast. The overnight loss of approximately 1400 irreplaceable years had many consequences for the museum that for over a century had displayed the sculpture as a jewel of its Antiquities collection. Aesthetically speaking, does that revisionist attribution make the sculpture less valuable? Does pricking the balloon of financial inflation automatically also diminish the art historical merit of the sculpture or the viewer’s pleasure in its beauty? And what about the art historian’s personal and professional response when an unblemished favorite suddenly becomes irretrievably tainted?

For decades, I, a chemist-turned-playwright, have also been a serious art collector, who has been well aware of the disturbing fetishization of many art objects. But instead of addressing primarily the change in value as a well known art object is reattributed--a situation quite different when a work, say a presumed Vermeer painting, is found to be forged by Van Meegeren--I decided to focus on what effect such reattribution might have on the behavior of the principals involved in the dispute.

This dramatic lode has been mined before. Alan Bennett’s play and subsequent BBC TV film, “A Question of Attribution,” uses the question of a Titian painting’s authenticity to depict the relation between art historian (Sir Anthony Blunt) and owner (Queen Elizabeth II) as well as Blunt’s behavior as a notorious Communist spy. And Simon Gray’s more recent “The Old Masters”-though ostensibly covering the dispute whether a certain painting was created by Titian rather than Giorgione-really delves into the ethical and psychological conflict between art historian (Bernard Berenson) and art dealer (Lord Duveen). In other words, the principals and the art in those plays have a historical basis, which however has been altered to make a dramatic point.

And what is that point in my “Phallacy”? Here I concern myself with a conflict much closer to my professional competence: the quirks and idiosyncrasies of art historian and scientist, when they examine the age of an art object from their grossly different perspectives: aesthetic and art historical connoisseurship versus cold material analysis. In addition, I also wanted to explore the ramifications of a well known character fault that transcends the gulf been art scholar and scientist: falling in love with a favorite hypothesis and defending it against all comers and new evidence.

Like other playwrights working with factual material, I have modified, manipulated, disguised or even deliberately misused many historical nuggets by claiming the authorial freedom that any playwright rightly exercises. Thus I request that any resemblance to the actual principals associated with the ongoing saga of the putative Roman sculpture in the Antiquities collection of a famous European museum be largely ascribed to coincidence and that in no respect have I attempted to damage the reputation of a living scholar. And if the explanation in my play of what has happened to that original sculpture should in the future prove to be correct, it is not a reflection of my art historical acumen but purely a playwright’s dumb luck.

Aside from my interest as a scientist and art collector, there is a deeply personal reason why I chose this theme for my newest play. Born in Vienna, I emigrated after the Nazi Anschluss to the USA, where I became a research scientist. In 2004, the Austrian Government offered me Austrian citizenship. Since by that time, I had turned into a playwright, what better token of reconciliation than creation of a play that I situated in the city of my birth?

Carl Djerassi

London, Singapore, Eugene, and Hamburg, Oct. 2004 - Jan. 2005

Cast

DR. REGINA LEITNER-OPFERMANN, middle aged art historian and director of the Department of Antiquities in an important Austrian museum.

EMMA FINGER, assistant curator of the Renaissance Art Department, late twenties or early thirties.

DR. REX STOLZFUSS, middle aged Professor of Chemistry and head of the art conservation department of an unnamed technical institution in Austria.

DR. OTTO ELLENBOGEN, late twenties or early thirties, recent Ph.D. and assistant to Prof. Stolzfuss.

GERALDO LOPEZ, Spaniard of undetermined occupation (same actor as Otto Ellenbogen, but speaking with Spanish accent).

DON JUAN OF AUSTRIA (1547 - 1578), illegitimate son of Emperor Charles V and Hero of the Battle of Lepanto (25 years old).

BARBARA BLOMBERG, Don Juan’s mother (43 years old).

VOICE OF HIGH SCHOOL STUDENT (sitting in back row of the theatre).

TIME

The recent past in Vienna except for some scenes in Luxemburg in 1572 during Don Juan’s historically documented stop on his way from Spain to the Netherlands.

Scene 1. Present time. REGINA Leitner-Opfermann, director of the Antiquities Department of the Museum is evidently concluding a lecture to a group of high school students.

REGINA (With kind and animated voice): So, let me summarize the salient points of my lecture. I know your teachers expect you to take notes… and I have no doubt that they’re going to test you later. But there will be time to ask your questions on the tour of our Antiquities Galleries. For now… please, put away your pens and pencils. And use your eyes, your hearts, your souls.... Absorb the beauty of this, the most important piece of our Antiquities Galleries: a Roman sculpture from the second century. Discovered right here in Austria.

(Flash up image of a bronze sculpture of a naked young man on the screen.)

I’m sure your chemistry teacher has told you that bronze is a metal alloy made by melting copper and tin in varying proportions. You may even have been told that bronze melts readily and is easily molded. And that it does not rust, is durable, and takes a fine smooth finish. You may even have been told about the additional presence of trace metals, but frankly who cares? It’s all a bit dull if you don’t learn to what fantastically beautiful use this material can be put. You won’t learn that in chemistry!

Bronze casting is at least 6,000 years old. The earliest bronze works were solid. It would be 2,000 years before artisans were able to cast hollow interiors, which opened the door to creating larger works like this beautiful young man, here. In the sixth century B.C. the Greeks brought bronze casting to a level of perfection never before achieved.

Tragically, during the Middle Ages, the acute shortage of metal needed for weaponry led to the majority of Greek bronze statues being melted down. The ones you can see in museums are mostly survivors that had been lost at sea or that had been buried for safe-keeping… and accidentally retrieved centuries later… a fact that is crucial to what you’ll see shortly on our tour.

And finally, the Romans. Their artistic education began during their conquests of the Greek cities and the plunder of thousands of the greatest Greek sculptures. The desire to collect and hoard was apparently insatiable among the wealthy Romans, and after the supply of originals was exhausted, copies were created. Hence, even if most valuable originals were irreparably lost, their images have been preserved in Roman copies.

This young man is one of the most beautiful and best preserved Roman bronzes that was uncovered 500 years ago… not in Italy… but in our own country. And now… let’s go and visit this crown jewel of our Antiquities Collection.

REGINA is interrupted by a voice coming from the theatre.

TEENAGE VOICE (from audience): Frau Director. A question.

REGINA (Faintly annoyed): I’ll answer questions during the tour. (Beat). All right. One question.

TEENAGE VOICE (from audience): If this sculpture is just a copy of a Greek original—

REGINA (Sharply interrupts): We do not know whether it is what you call just a copy… we believe that it is actually a Roman original of around 200 AD influenced by the Greek aesthetics of the Polyclitus school

VOICE (Same teenager from audience): But how can you tell whether it is a Roman original?

REGINA (Turning defensive): Young man, I have written an entire book on the subject. You should read it. (She’s about to leave and then has another thought). Suppose he were just a copy. What then? My figure has not lost an iota of its ravishing beauty. If it were a Roman cast of a Greek original, it would then be a clone of the original… and hence as beautiful. You know, most modern sculptors authorize several bronze casts. The art market considers them contemporary clones and therefore equally valuable. So what’s the difference with our ravishing figure here?

VOICE (Same teenager from audience): But a Roman copy of a Greek original is not contemporary—

REGINA (Now truly annoyed): That’s enough, thank you! We’re late for the tour. If you still have some questions, come see me in my office.

(Steps off podium. EMMA intercepts her.)

EMMA: Frau Director Leitner—

REGINA: Leitner- Opfermann.

EMMA: Sorry.

REGINA: Well?

EMMA: I’m Emma Finger… Renaissance department…. We’ve met a few times before—

REGINA: Yes.

EMMA: Yes. I just wanted to introduce myself… since we’ll be working together.

REGINA (Surprised): Oh? On what?

EMMA: You haven’t read the report?

REGINA: What report?

EMMA: Professor Stolzfuss—

REGINA: I hardly know him. What’s this all about?

EMMA: I’m sorry, I thought the Museum Director had informed you of the situation.

REGINA: Well, he hasn’t, and neither has anyone else. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to lead a tour.

Scene 2. A few days later. Regina’s office.

REX: You don’t have much use for chemistry, do you?

REGINA (Disingenuously): Professor Stolzfuss! Now what makes you say that?

REX: My son told me about your lecture.

REGINA: Your son was there?

REX: According to him, you thought trace metals in bronze were a bit of a bore.

REGINA: Is that what I said? Frankly, my lecture dealt with the history and beauty of antique bronzes… not chemistry. I barely mentioned your field.

REX: It registered with my son.

REGINA: I suppose it would with the son of a chemistry professor. (Beat). There was a boy who kept asking questions.

REX: That would be him.

REGINA: You put him up to it?

REX: No, no…

REGINA: Are you quite sure?

REX: I told him about our work on your sculpture, and he—

REGINA (Starting to get angry): You did what?

REX: I told him about the results of our work.

REGINA: I see. And you think that was appropriate? Telling your son about results that we’re only discussing now?

REX: It’s not a state secret. Your museum director had asked me to take a look at your sculpture-

REGINA: “Take a look?”

REX: Yes. We developed some new chemical methods. We got some top-notch new equipment. What’s wrong with the museum commissioning a new approach to confirm the putative age of a sculpture-?

REGINA (Wounded): Putative?

REX: It’s not an insult. More often than not, age is considered putative until it’s confirmed… even the age of a person. Take my son. In another couple of years, he’ll have to produce a driver’s license in order to buy a drink.

REGINA (Sarcastic): And our museum director came to you for the driver’s license of this bronze?

REX (Enjoying the direction of the conversation): Just a parking permit. Doubts have been expressed whether it truly belongs in the Antiquities galleries.

REGINA: Are you aware of the evidence I have amassed over years of research? Summarized in a scholarly book that has already been reprinted?

REX: By your museum bookshop.

REGINA: You’ve read the book?

REX: I always read evidence before questioning it.

REGINA: Are you suggesting I don’t?

REX: It is not meant personally. A scientist’s business is to question all evidence and then to confirm or refute it through independent means.

REGINA: You read my book from beginning to end?

REX: Eventually. But I started at the end.

REGINA: You mean the last chapter?

REX: The index.

REGINA: The index?

REX: Yes, the index. And looked for the words “trace analysis” and “nickel.” Now of course, their absence is clearer since according to my son you find them dull.

REGINA: Why did you start with those words?

REX: Because Roman bronze has a very low Nickel content.

REGINA (Sarcastically): I am delighted to hear that.

REX: I wouldn’t be if I were you.

REGINA: Why not?

REX: Your sculpture contains a lot of nickel. Rather typical of Renaissance bronze. (Beat).

REGINA: Say that again.

REX: The nickel content of the sculpture is typical of Renaissance—

REGINA (Interrupting): And you told this to our Museum Director?

REX: Of course.

REGINA: Instead of coming to me?

REX: But… he was the one who requested we examine your sculpture. Anyway, what matters here is the nickel content.

REGINA: You’re saying that our sculpture could not be of Roman origin? That all Roman bronzes, without exception, had low nickel content?

REX: I didn’t say without exception—

REGINA: You see?

REX: I’m saying it’s extremely unlikely. And that’s why I’m here. As a courtesy call. To tell you… before informing anyone else… what additional chemical tests we carried out to prove our assumption-

REGINA (Pouncing on this): Assumption!

REX: Yes.

REGINA: So, you’re just making an assumption?

REX: Well, no, because we carried out further tests—

REGINA: Nonetheless, these tests were all based on your assumption. You assumed that the sculpture is a Renaissance work. That all the evidence in my book… all 345 pages… is hogwash.

REX: Well… hogwash, no… I wouldn’t say that, not exactly hogwash—

REGINA: You see, this is what I find so I infuriating. You slavishly follow the rules of chemistry you learned as a student… lessons you now teach to your students… who will then teach it to their students, it’s sterile crap—

REX (Outraged): Crap?

REGINA (Ignores interruption): I said “sterile” crap… consisting of rules promoted by art-hating boors, shielded from any sense of beauty by a dense fog spread from ear to ear. You disembowel every vestige of aesthetics… you ignore style, form, patina… in fact all connotative accompaniments. (Deep breath). You remind me of … an overzealous mouse trying to act like a rat.

REX: Excuse me?

REGINA: Someone really ought to prick that balloon of self-righteous… pompous… simplistic arrogance of yours. No, not simplistic…cocksure. Transforming the wine of aesthetics into vinegar! How typical of you chemists. When chemists dabble with art, the best that can be said is the results are unpredictable.

REX: Unpredictability is what science is all about…

REGINA: Is it really? Then why doesn’t that teach you humility… rather than arrogance? And why not recognize the importance of visual beauty… a concept that barely exists in your chemical world.

REX: For this discussion, the beauty of the sculpture is not important. Even the sculpture is not important—

REGINA: So what is?

REX: Truth.

REGINA: That’s all?

REX: That’s all.

REGINA: How pathetic. And if the beauty of this sculpture is not important, what about art?

REX: Define Art.

REGINA: An image from the mirror of life.

REX (Derisive): Good God!

REGINA: All right then. How about Art being everything other than what you see in the mirror?

REX: Better! But how necessary is that?

REGINA: Art is never necessary. It just happens to be indispensable.

Scene 3. Emma’s office.

EMMA: She was still steaming when she told me about her meeting.

OTTO: She really described him as an overzealous mouse?

EMMA: What are you getting so worked up about?

OTTO: She meant all chemists, which includes me. If you’re going to side with your boss, what are you doing hanging out with the enemy?

EMMA: She’s not my boss. I am a curator in the Renaissance department. I was lent to her by the big boss… the museum director… to help her get out of this mess. Because a mess in the Antiquities department is a mess for the museum… especially when dealing with such an important work. Besides, I’m not hanging out with you… I’ve barely started hanging out.

OTTO: It must be chemistry.

EMMA (Teasing): The authority speaking.

OTTO: You know… I think I’m in love with you.

EMMA: Nice change of topic. You never told me that before.

OTTO: Not in so many words.

EMMA: But you’re quoting.

OTTO: What do you mean?

EMMA: It’s a quote… it’s been said millions of times.

OTTO: But that’s true of everything said between lovers.

EMMA: Listen. There’s still a way to go on that lover front.

OTTO: Well… what would you say if you loved someone?

EMMA: You want to hear it now?

OTTO: Of course.

EMMA (Reflective): If I really loved him? (Pause). I might say: “Is there a way to keep my soul from touching yours?”

OTTO (Startled and pleased): Wow! Did you just think of that?

EMMA (Softer). “But everything that touches me and you/draws us together, making one from two,/as one bow gives two strings a single tongue.“

OTTO: My God!

EMMA: “Upon what instrument are we two spanned? And what musician holds us in his hand?”

OTTO: You couldn’t have thought of that just now.

EMMA: I didn’t… I remembered it. Because I’m wondering whether one single voice can be teased out of two such different strings as yours and mine?

OTTO: Who wrote that?

EMMA: Rainer Maria Rilke.

OTTO: So you were quoting as well.

EMMA: Yes… but that wasn’t said millions of times before.

OTTO: Frau Opfermann has turned you against me.

EMMA: She doesn’t know about you. (Beat). And her name is Leitner-Opfermann. Opfermann was the name of her former husband.

OTTO (Dismissive and mocking): “Leitner-Opfermann!” I can’t stand those hyphenated names. They reek of compromise.

EMMA: She won’t drop it because she made the mistake of publishing her book under that name. A book whose basic premise your hapless professor is now questioning. She expects to be called Frau Director Leitner-Opfermann. How long have you been in Vienna?

OTTO: Long enough.

EMMA: Clearly not long enough to understand that titles still count for something here.

OTTO: Not with everyone. I call my boss “Rex.”

EMMA: Not “Professor?”

OTTO: I’d barely started working in his lab when one day he said, “Just call me Rex.” He laughed, but I knew what he meant. A king doesn’t need another title.

EMMA: I hate to think what would happen if I called her by her first name.

Scene 4. Regina’s office. Continuing where we left off with Rex and Regina.

REGINA: What do you think of Klee?

REX: I’m into bronze… not clay.

REGINA: Paul Klee.

REX: I see.

REGINA (Dismissive): So you have heard of him?

REX: I don’t have to put up with this.

REGINA: Well… how do you like Klee?

REX: Is this relevant?

REGINA: Indeed. Because here’s what Klee told a chemist…

REX (Prickly): What kind of a chemist? Analytical? Organic ? Physical? (Beat). Or was it a cook that he mistook for a chemist?

REGINA: A famous chemist.

REX: What’s his name?