The House of Blue Leaves and Chaucer in Rome by John Guare

Author:John Guare [GUARE, JOHN]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: DRA001000
ISBN: 9781468307825
Publisher: The Overlook Press
Published: 2012-12-18T05:00:00+00:00

Screaming outside.

MATT: What is that screaming?

IL DOTTORE dismisses the noise.

IL DOTTORE: Non vedo it problema. Usi la pittura lavabile e potrà continuare a lavorare.

SARAH: Use lovely, innocent, hygienic, water-based paint and get back to work. I understood that. Get dressed—

IL DOTTORE: Dopo tutto, la pittura è pittura.

PETE: Paint is paint.

MATT: Paint is paint???

PETE: Oh yes—I remember. Anger.

IL DOTTORE: Quando Matisse perse la vista, accetò il suo destino e cominciò a fare collages con dei grandissimi fogli di carta.

PETE: Cutting out giant pieces of paper—when Matisse went blind—

MATT, panic: I’m going blind?

PETE: No! He’s saying Matisse accepted the realities of life.

MATT: Life can adjust to me.

SARAH hands him a watercolor set with a ribbon on it.

SARAH: I’ve brought you water colors.

MATT flings down the tray.

MATT: Watercolor? Prince Charles uses watercolor to paint prissy British landscapes.

To us: I manipulate massive strokes of heavy, gloppy, yes, toxic sensuous paint—roll, nudge, spread, coax its poisons into the canvas. The arsenic gives the vermilion that lethal intensity. The lead gives the white balls! I darken the canvas with the same black poisoned oil that Rembrandt used. I tame the chaotic malevolent paint with my brush, my hands—wipe my mouth with it.

To PETE and SARAH: Yes! the back of my head! The lethal paint lets me show what’s beneath the surface. Don’t tell me watercolor!

PETE: Hey—“What is watercolor but a series of happy, unexpected accidents.”

SARAH: John Singer Sargent.

PETE: Yes! You’re great. She’s great.

SARAH: Find new tools to work with. Rembrandt would find a way to make it work and he’d love it.

PETE: Marry her, Matt. Don’t let her get away.

MATT: How dare you speak for Rembrandt! The arrogance. People who say Shakespeare would’ve loved it. Chekhov would’ve loved it. Dearest. I love you with all my heart but how do you know what the hell Rembrandt would do?

SARAH: If paint gave Rembrandt cancer and it was the year 2000, he’d find a new way to make art and maybe it’d be—

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