Editor’s Note: This article has been reedited by the Voice‘s staff. The article that follows is different from the article that appeared in the Feb. 6, 2014 print edition of the Voice.
Georgetown students: we’re brilliant. Driven by intelligence and lofty goals of success, we’re insistent on loading our schedules up to the brim, beginning the search for internships when we’re only freshmen, and aiming to have jobs by the time—or before—we graduate. But how do we balance our intellectual, rational selves with our social, emotional person? Do we push aside desires for companionship and trust in order to dedicate ourselves to dreams of intellectual greatness and achievements?
Such complex questions are addressed in Proof, Mask and Bauble’s main-stage winter production. Written in 2000 and awarded the Pulitzer Prize for drama in 2001, Proof focuses on key issues such as familial conflict and mental instability, set around a world of serious scholars.
When Robert, played by T. Chase Meacham (COL ’14), a once prolific mathematical genius, passes away, his daughter and caregiver Catherine, played by Katie Bellamy-Mitchell (COL ’15) is left wondering what to do next.
Catherine is also a mathematical genius. But there is more she can inherit from her father: mental illness and eventual failure.
All the while, Catherine is forced to deal with the coming and going of her father’s old students. Hal, played by Sean Craig (COL ’16) searches through Robert’s notebooks—the things he most worked on during the last years of his life—in the hopes of finding a final revelation from the deceased professor.
As Hal and Catherine grow closer, Catherine finds the confidence to reveal a guarded secret—one that is received with skepticism and doubt.
Trust is a vital and important theme that is woven throughout the play. When Catherine’s sister Claire, played by Elly Straske (CO L’16) arrives from New York, she finds it difficult to believe her sister’s story about a mysterious Hal trying to steal one of her father’s notebooks. In a way, she seems to overlook the fact that Catherine had called the police and then refused to cooperate.
Producer Allie Van (SFS’14) poses the question: “How do we decide who we trust? For Catherine, it’s based on gut instinct. But [others] need legitimate proof. If it doesn’t factually add up, skepticism comes in.” This direct contrast naturally causes conflict between the protagonists.
Once it is revealed that Catherine herself wrote a revolutionary proof during her father’s illness, sadly both Hal and Claire question Catherine’s veracity, assuming it was Robert’s work. Hal’s intelligence and rationale prevent him from instinctively believing Catherine, even though he cares deeply for her. For Catherine, Hal’s distrust is a deep wound—one that she struggles to recover from throughout Act II. Craig explains, “Hal spends the play concerned with the facts. What really matters, though, are the people behind them.”
Despite the central theme of trust and complex subject material (especially when discussing numbers like 92,605×2^16,998+1), Proof is a heart-warming play, portraying ideas of deep familial love throughout the story. Despite complications, the relationship between Robert and Catherine is one that runs deep. Through the transition of Robert’s being father to Catherine dropping out of school to care for him, it is clear both characters care deeply about one another. “Robert loves Catherine very, very much,” Meacham says, “though he has a difficult time expressing it. He wants her to succeed, to carry on his work, to overcome her own demons in a way that he was never able to.”
And what of Claire? Despite her controlling, almost type-A approach, it is clear she only acts in ways that show care for her sister. Straske declares, “I love Claire. I really do. I know she’s made to be the bad guy in this whole situation, but if you look at her position with her eyes, she just wants to make sure her sister’s all right. … No one else is going to set Catherine on the right path.”
Despite their extremities and unique tendencies, every character in Proof is easy to relate to and understand—especially by driven, eager-to-achieve Georgetown students. Both Hal and Robert are so identified by their works, achievements, and failures that it becomes difficult for them to slow down and establish personal relationships. Catherine questions her self-control and genius, but also struggles with others seeing her as a complex person—rather than an individual who needs “help.” “When you’re defined or dismissed as something,” Mitchell explains, “you feel like you’re screaming and no one’s even listening to you. Catherine is a little crazy, but so are we all.”
Proof provides audiences with something to consider deeply. Do we make enough time for the people we love? Are we pigeonholed into particular labels, or are our paths a little wider? Director Emma Rice (NHS’15) hopes that students will consider the phrase Cura personalis or, “care for the entire person” after seeing Proof. Do we really care for all of us? Rice believes that our focus as students is more on our education and intelligence. In her view, we “devalue our more emotional side.” Proof beautifully advocates the ideas of caring for the entire entity—not just the brilliant mind, but the resilient heart and soul.
Beautiful review of the playwright.