‘Time’ For ‘Therapy’: A Performance Interface Lab Double Feature (Review)

by No Proscenium Staff
No Proscenium Staff
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May 5, 2020
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6 min read

Performance Interface Lab has run three experiences so far during lockdown — Couples Therapy, Out of Time, and woolgatherings — each of which used Zoom to connect a lone audience member with the characters.

While Patrick B. McLean gave a full review for woolgatherings, we found ourselves in possession of two quick reviews each of the other productions. Since the shows have completed their initial runs, we decided to put them all together here. Special thanks to performer/creator Deanna Fleysher for the guest review of Couples Therapy, and to Patrick, Kathryn Yu, and Rachel Stoll for keeping the machine rolling, and your seemingly endless patience. — Noah Nelson, Publisher

Couples Therapy

There are two kinds of people in the world: people who want to give other people — even total strangers — advice about their intimate relationships, and rocks. If you are not a rock, you will love Couples Therapy.

The concept is simple yet awesome: you are on a Zoom call with a couple who have hired you to be their couples therapist. If you like that idea, put this review down and go buy a ticket right now. If you don’t like that idea, see above “rock” diagnosis.

One of the partner’s personal therapist contacts you in advance via email, giving you some useful, background info about the couple. Then, if you’re like me, you don a blazer and some fake glasses and get ready for your appointment.

I’m a troublemaker by nature, so I was ready to get all crazy on these actors. I wanted to be the looniest couples therapist ever, I wanted to say and do outlandish things… but it never ended up happening. I found myself humbled by the realness and thoughtfulness on the other side of my screen. These were two people, acting totally normal, trusting me to do the same, trusting me with what felt like real, honest issues and personal details. I found myself actually just wanting to help them. And I came away from that Zoom call with all kinds of thoughts about the complicated power of authority, the role of psychology, and psychologizing, in intimacy, and the intricate web of dynamics between people that make up relationships.

I suspect you can have any experience you want to have with Couples Therapy; Lily and Matthew (the actors… are they a real-life couple? They’re not social distancing, I can tell you that much) are smart improvisers and powerful listeners — and they could be absolutely truthful about what’s really going on in their lives, or they’re great at make-em-ups, and I don’t care which. They’re offering a delicious format that is guaranteed to give the participant a rich experience, an experience of connection, an experience of grappling, and just maybe, a moment of transformation.

A lot of artists are throwing it all on the COVID-19 wall to see if anything sticks; it seems like Performance Interface Lab has put a lot of thought and care into its offerings. Couples Therapy could be just the treat your quarantined soul needs. Get to it.

— Deanna Fleysher

At the start of the pandemic, my therapist and I quickly had to adapt, leaving behind meeting in his tastefully yet neutrally decorated work office for connecting from our homes. When online, I can see my therapist’s home setup mirrors his work office, creating no focus or distractions that are about his life. It allows our sessions to continue like nothing has changed, all attention on the work at hand. In learning that I will be taking on the role of a therapist in Performance Interfaces Lab’s Zoom based experience Couples Therapy, I believe if I emulate my therapist’s techniques and practices, I can help the young couple of Lily and Matt through their problems.

A few hours before the experience’s prearranged start time, I receive an email from the therapist who’s referred Lily and Matt to me. The therapist’s notes are both detailed and vague all at the same time, such as mentioning Lily has family issues but stopping there. There are no specifics provided. Maybe these notes are meant to be a springboard to help those who might be nervous or unsure of what to ask during Couples Therapy. I find them unhelpful, creating my own questions to ask.

Once our 25 to 30 minute session starts on Zoom, I start asking questions, quickly attempting to strike at the heart of their issues. It appears to be a rookie mistake, both as a therapist and as an audience member. They’re quick to shift the conversation back to what they want to talk about. I take note and let them lead. But in listening to them, it strikes me that the more they talk to one another, openly communicating thoughts or emotions, my involvement seems unnecessary.

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Pairing that with the missed opportunity that this isn’t an hour long experience, allowing it to mirror the length of an actual therapy session, I was left unsure of the message Couples Therapy is trying to convey to their audience. Is it that you just need to be open and honest with your partner? Is therapy only good as a neutral space to talk? Is it good to have someone in the room to hear both sides or pointless? Like my own therapy, it seems only time and self examination will provide the answers I seek about Couples Therapy.

— Patrick B. McLean

Couples Therapy has concluded.

Out of Time

Performance Interface Lab’s Out of Time feels in step with the current environment of strangeness and navel-gazing about the meaning of time. Luckily I’ve always believed that time is a construct.

I sign into the Zoom meeting at my appointed time and am greeted by the Apprentice who quickly turns into a fangirl — about me or rather my map making skills. It is a bit jarring at first, but is designed to pull you into the world quickly. The premise of the show is that you, the sole participant, are the expert Map Maker. You and the Apprentice must create a map for The Captain who you used to work for but can’t be bothered to join the meeting for this very important mission. The 1:1 interactive experience between Map Maker and Apprentice takes the participant through a series of drawing and thought-prompts which ultimately create a map for The Captain who is venturing on to eternity.

Without getting into the details on what the prompts for making the elements of the map are, the instruction for the participants is thoughtful and ties into memories you didn’t think you had (but the Map Maker clearly did). For those who already have deep thoughts about time, eternity, space, and think about what some of those intangibles feel like, the 25-minute micro theatre piece may stick with you longer — especially as the ending feels a bit abrupt after the task at hand is complete.

— Rachel Stoll

I’ve spent a lot of time in video conferencing lately. Mostly for playing Jackbox Games on the couch with friends and attending university classes at my kitchen table, so I’m a little taken aback when I get my Zoom link via email and immediately see the wide-eyed mug of the Apprentice, immediately gushing and plying me with praise about my mapmaking skills. She can’t believe she is able to finally meet me, her inspiration. Her face seems overwhelmingly large in the frame of the app. Plus, I’m not a good compliment-taker to begin with (much less when I’m receiving compliments about something I’m clueless about), so add on the complexities of interpreting someone else’s body language and facial expression over Zoom, and you get a recipe for a one-on-one full of awkwardness.

I don’t know where to focus my eyes as she’s telling me about what the Captain needs (a map that only I can help draw); I am perplexed at this character whose cup of sincerity runneth over. Unfortunately, my attention is also drawn to the anachronism of a closed white clamshell Mac laptop that sticks out among the old timey desk full of books and papers.

As we move through a series of five drawing exercises and I hold up my sketches to the webcam, I can’t help but feel like I’ve regressed to some sort of elementary school show and tell where the teacher praises everyone regardless of skill level. The 25-minute experience, while sweet and mostly distracting, tries to get me to a meditative state, but I never quite get there. Perhaps it’s time for less Zoom in my life.