Birth
Darkness.
A switch clicks.
A laboratory appears beneath a single white light.
At its center stands an empty examination table.
DR. BELLROSE arranges instruments on a steel tray.
Each one is placed parallel to the next.
DR. ARIS stands before a chalkboard covered
in unfinished sentences.
ARIS:
What makes a masterpiece?
BELLROSE:
That is the wrong question.
ARIS:
It is the question
you brought me here to answer.
BELLROSE:
I brought you here
because you insist on answers.
BELLROSE adjusts a lamp above the table.
BELLROSE:
I need criteria.
ARIS:
For art?
BELLROSE:
For creation.
ARIS:
Those are not interchangeable.
BELLROSE:
Not yet.
ARIS turns toward the chalkboard.
Written across it:
WHAT MUST IT DO?
ARIS:
You have already decided
it must do something.
BELLROSE:
Everything does something.
ARIS:
A painting does not perform.
BELLROSE:
It produces a response.
ARIS:
That is not the same.
BELLROSE:
The body does not care
about the distinction.
He selects a clean glass vial.
BELLROSE:
The pulse quickens.
He places it on the tray.
BELLROSE:
The pupils widen.
Another vial.
BELLROSE:
The breath changes.
Another.
BELLROSE:
Attention becomes fixation.
ARIS:
You are describing symptoms.
BELLROSE:
I am describing evidence.
ARIS:
Evidence of what?
BELLROSE:
That beauty can be measured.
ARIS:
Reaction can be measured.
BELLROSE:
Good.
ARIS:
That does not explain beauty.
BELLROSE:
It explains enough
to reproduce it.
ARIS studies him.
ARIS:
You believe a masterpiece
can be engineered.
BELLROSE:
I believe anything
consistently observed
can eventually be engineered.
ARIS:
Grief?
BELLROSE:
Chemical.
ARIS:
Devotion?
BELLROSE:
Behavioral.
ARIS:
Inspiration?
BELLROSE pauses.
BELLROSE:
That is the difficult part.
ARIS:
Not mystery?
BELLROSE:
No.
ARIS:
Not genius?
BELLROSE:
No.
ARIS:
Not the soul?
BELLROSE:
Do not become theatrical.
ARIS erases the question from the board.
In its place, he writes:
WHAT MUST IT BE?
ARIS:
If it is alive,
it will possess an interior life.
BELLROSE:
Ideally.
ARIS:
Ideally?
BELLROSE:
Awareness may increase
its ability to respond
to the observer.
ARIS:
You mean adapt to them.
BELLROSE:
Yes.
ARIS:
Please do not say
“the observer”
when you mean a person.
BELLROSE:
A person observing
is still an observer.
ARIS:
And the thing being observed?
BELLROSE:
The subject.
ARIS:
Even if it can think?
BELLROSE:
Especially then.
Silence.
The machinery beneath the floor begins to hum.
ARIS:
What response do you want
the subject to produce?
BELLROSE:
Attention.
ARIS:
That is easy.
BELLROSE:
Attachment.
ARIS:
Less easy.
BELLROSE:
Admiration.
ARIS:
Temporary.
BELLROSE:
Devotion.
ARIS:
Dangerous.
BELLROSE:
Inspiration.
ARIS:
Uncontrollable.
BELLROSE:
Not if we understand its source.
ARIS:
And you believe you do?
BELLROSE:
I believe history has provided
a sufficient sample.
BELLROSE opens a large book.
Paintings. Sculptures. Anatomical sketches.
The faces change from page to page.
The bodies do not.
ARIS:
You studied the subjects
of great art.
BELLROSE:
I studied what people
consistently choose to worship.
ARIS:
Those are not the same.
BELLROSE:
Again, the body does not care
about the distinction.
He turns another page.
BELLROSE:
Softness without frailty.
Another.
BELLROSE:
Symmetry without sterility.
Another.
BELLROSE:
Intelligence without distance.
ARIS:
You mean intelligence
that does not intimidate.
BELLROSE:
I mean intelligence
that invites participation.
ARIS:
That is prettier wording.
BELLROSE:
It is also more accurate.
ARIS:
Grace.
BELLROSE:
Yes.
ARIS:
Beauty.
BELLROSE:
Obviously.
ARIS:
Tenderness.
BELLROSE:
When required.
ARIS:
Desire.
BELLROSE:
Inevitable.
ARIS closes the book.
ARIS:
You are not describing
a masterpiece.
BELLROSE:
I am describing
the conditions necessary
for one to be recognized.
ARIS:
Recognized by whom?
BELLROSE
Everyone.
ARIS:
No creation has ever been loved
by everyone.
BELLROSE:
Then not love.
ARIS:
What?
BELLROSE:
Investment.
ARIS:
Explain.
BELLROSE:
They do not need to love it.
He looks toward the empty table.
BELLROSE:
They need to feel
that it was made for them.
ARIS:
That sounds less like art
and more like manipulation.
BELLROSE:
All successful art
is manipulation.
ARIS:
And what form
will accomplish this miracle?
BELLROSE turns the lamp on.
White light floods the empty table.
BELLROSE:
One that history
has already trained them
to look at.
ARIS:
A human form.
BELLROSE:
Yes.
ARIS:
Young.
BELLROSE:
Preferably.
ARIS:
Beautiful.
BELLROSE
Necessarily.
ARIS:
Alive.
BELLROSE:
That is the achievement.
ARIS:
And male?
BELLROSE:
No.
ARIS:
Why not?
BELLROSE:
Men are permitted
to be ugly.
ARIS says nothing.
BELLROSE:
They are permitted
to be difficult.
He tightens one of the leather straps
hanging from the table.
BELLROSE:
Distant.
Another strap.
BELLROSE:
Cruel.
Another.
BELLROSE:
A man may be called brilliant
without being loved.
ARIS:
And a woman?
BELLROSE:
A woman must first
be looked at.
The humming grows louder.
ARIS:
You say that
as though you have solved it.
BELLROSE:
I have.
ARIS:
You have chosen a shape.
BELLROSE:
I have chosen
the only shape
the world already believes
can be both art
and alive.
ARIS:
And what happens
when she understands
why you made her?
BELLROSE places both hands
on the empty table.
BELLROSE:
Then we will know
whether understanding
improves the result.
Blackout.
In the darkness, a machine begins
the slow work of making a woman.
