I suspect very few people who saw Heiner Goebbels' "Hashirigaki" would deny that at least one or two passages were pretty stunning. Even fewer would fail to concede that just as many sequences baffled and even irritated them. I personally found myself slightly more enthralled than annoyed. If that sounds like faint praise, so be it.
A virtuosic theremin solo; Klaus Grunberg's rapturous lighting, complete with gorgeous skies and dazzling geometric patterns; a haunting dance solo in a chrysalis-like gossamer costume -- these all served as reminders of what experimental theatre can achieve. Unfortunately, so did the self-indulgent declamations from Gertrude Stein's "The Making of Americans" and the tedious musical vamps; one such sequence, consisting largely of a miniature gong, seemed designed to test the audience's patience.
The three talented performers -- Charlotte Engelkes, Marie Goyette, and Yumiko Tanaka -- range wildly in height and were often arranged to accentuate this contrast. Each had numerous opportunities, both together and individually, to exult in Goebbels' peculiar hybrid of lounge music and arresting Asian-influenced melodies.
The most recognizable components of "Hashirigaki" are the Stein text and five songs from the Beach Boys album, "Pet Sounds." (Goebbels' conceptual forebears -- Pina Bausch and especially Robert Wilson -- are equally apparent in the staging.) Sadly, Stein's hoop-jumping linguistics made for some pretty pretentious going. The "Pet Sounds" music didn't really feel of a piece with Goebbels' own, but it did match the mood established by a touchingly fragile cardboard village built among and above the performers' musical instruments.
What did it all mean? Search me. But it stimulated the imagination just enough to make one forgive the dreary patches and look forward to other opportunities to peek into Goebbels' tuneful, curious world.