When the closeted British actor and playwright Noël Coward wrote Design for Living in the early 1930s, being gay was a crime in New York and London. Police weaponized entrapment. And Depression-era class warfare simmered with resentment against the artistic and creative classes—“Bright Young Things” who didn’t stand in bread lines and who lived decadent and self-indulgent lives.
Onto this stony soil Coward casts a play with all those targets and more: a multifaceted comedy in which sexual tension, drama, and jealousy open a window onto success and its pitfalls, affluence and its dangers, and the destructive effects of being faithful to oneself.
Coward introduces Gilda (Caitlin Rose), a trust fund baby and underworked interior designer. She lives in Paris with Otto (Joe Cullen), who lives as a Bohemian unsuccessful painter; sleeps with Leo (KJ Snyder), a recently successful playwright; and talks about a new Matisse painting with Ernest (Sean D. Lujan), a successful elderly art dealer.
Back from a successful New York play opening, Leo celebrates with Gilda in Otto’s bed—that he and Otto were lovers is on the shelf, for now. He reasons: “I love you. You love me. You love Otto. I love Otto. Otto loves you. Otto loves me. There now! Start to unravel from there.”
Predictably, the throuple unravels over sexual jealousy. Otto and Leo exchange harsh words and part as enemies. Love never did run smooth.
Time passes, and now Gilda lives with Leo. Roles reverse: Otto returns after a successful show opening and celebrates with Gilda in Leo’s bed. Gilda conveniently leaves before Leo returns, and the two men find notes she’s left for both of them. They drown their disappointment in brandy and each other.
Gilda is the linchpin of the play—as she is in the throuple—and Rose effortlessly works the tension between all the principals, both sexual and creative. She lets Ernest swell about his Matisse and nimbly adapts to the changes in Leo’s personality after his success.
Leo, the first of the three to attain success, is defensive. He gently taunts Gilda about escaping obscurity: “What are you mourning for? The dear old days of the Quartier Latin?... Let’s dress up poor and go back and pretend, shall we?” Gilda snaps back: “We can pretend here… we can pretend we are happy.”
Otto is the more reflective of the two men. He projects no illusions of his own uniqueness or superiority, saying: “It’s no use you trying to decide who you love best, Leo or me… a gay, ironic chance threw the three of us together and tied our lives into a tight knot.”
Watch very carefully, as the throuple weaves in and out of each others’ beds, and you'll see that Design for Living isn't just a novel-for-its-time presentation of what we now call ethical non-monogamy. It's also a study of the other complicated interactions among the four principals.
The tension between Otto and Gilda is not merely the sexual liaison with Leo, but also the effects that success—and Otto’s lack of success—has on Leo. The minor character of the maid, Miss Hodge (Diane Slamp) voices the moral perspective of the aforementioned men on the bread lines.
Design for Living's audience must be prepared for a long play—the runtime is about three hours with intermission. One could also view that as a value; there's plenty to take in over that period. This is a very pretty show. The costuming, makeup, and lighting are flawless, and director Jerry Mouawad blocks his small stage in a way that never feels claustrophobic. It's altogether very pleasant to take in Coward's repartee and wit, think about the sexual tension of throuples, and reflect on whether or not worldly success corrupts or hardens artists.
Design for Living plays through Oct 26 at Imago Theatre, 17 SE 8th, $37, tickets and showtimes, 16+
