The raw, unadulterated atmosphere of a sauna, much like a bustling subway car, has a remarkable way of leveling social distinctions. It was precisely this shared vulnerability that theatergoers experienced on a recent muggy, wet evening as they converged upon the iconic Russian and Turkish Baths in New York’s East Village, ready for a truly unique artistic encounter.
Guests of all ages donned swimsuits and navy robes, preparing to witness “Dutchman,” a compelling play unfolding within the suffocating heat of an imagined, un-air-conditioned subway. This marked the second time acclaimed visual artist and filmmaker Rashid Johnson chose the 10th Street bathhouse as his stage. Back in 2013, drawing inspiration from his regular sauna visits, Johnson adapted and directed Amiri Baraka’s explosive 1964 work, a raw exploration of race and sexuality, right within the steam.
Reflecting on the unconventional venue, the 48-year-old Johnson remarked, “It felt so natural. It’s almost strangely obvious.”
An immersive stage: The “Dutchman” production transforms the bathhouse into a sweltering subway car setting.
Artist Rashid Johnson and his wife, Sheree Hovsepian, fully embraced the intense heat during the play’s powerful conclusion, highlighting the immersive nature of the experience.
This five-night revival of the one-act play commemorates the 20th anniversary of Performa, New York’s renowned performance-art biennial. The timing is particularly significant, aligning with Johnson’s inaugural major museum survey, which is currently on display at the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum until mid-January.
Johnson shared his artistic vision, stating, “I wouldn’t dare have an expectation for an audience to receive anything in any sort of specific way. I would like for them to be really present. And I think I’ve created a condition, and the circumstance, to which that presence is almost guaranteed.”
This production is certainly not for the timid. Audiences are confronted with explicit racial slurs and the risk of physical discomfort, as the temperatures inside the venue significantly surpass typical indoor settings, making it possible for individuals to feel unwell.
Actress Tori Ernst, portraying Lula, captivated the audience with shrieks, moans, and unsettling baby-talk.
As the relentless heat intensified, audience members found their breathing growing heavier, with some choosing to shed their robes for relief.
Following the intense performance, the audience erupted in applause, then eagerly made their way from the sauna to the refreshing cold plunge.
Dmitry Shapiro, co-owner of the baths, confirmed the Russian Room’s temperature was “somewhere in the 150s.” While lower than its usual 194 degrees, it remained intense enough to cure beef for jerky, he noted.
The evening commenced in the bathhouse’s restaurant, a scene of relaxed camaraderie. Guests, clad in matching wrap-tie robes and conspicuously without their phones, mingled and chatted under a menu featuring traditional “Russian Home Cooking” like “beer shrimp,” tuna salad, and Anna’s borscht.
Alexandria Pang, 35, a global luxury brands director and a member of Performa’s young visionaries steering committee, highlighted the unique immersion: “I think even the way we’re entering into this is part of the experience. There’s a vulnerability to it.”
Jerod Haynes, who embodies the character of Clay, commented on the unique power of the environment: “The heat is the main character. It forces you to confront what’s in front of you.”
Johnson commanded the room’s attention with a single clap, then humorously cautioned the audience that they would soon be “on top of each other,” advising seasoned sauna-goers to choose higher seating.
He explained, quite simply, “Heat rises. It’s a simple science lesson.”
Carefully gripping the railing, attendees descended into the expansive baths, navigating the humid environment where the play transitioned across three distinct settings: the Turkish Sauna, a designated rest area, and finally, the spa’s prized Russian Room.
A group of 40 tightly packed onto the wooden benches as the actors, illuminated solely by flashlights, performed at the room’s center, mere inches from the audience.
The narrative of “Dutchman” begins innocently enough: Clay, a Black man, encounters Lula, a white woman, on a train, and their initial flirtation quickly escalates into a charged exchange, simmering with escalating aggression.
The performance utilized three distinct spaces within the bathhouse, including the Turkish Sauna, a resting area, and the intensely hot Russian Room.
This taut, 45-minute production, featuring biting dialogue that matches the oppressive heat, stars only two actors: Jerod Haynes and Tori Ernst.
For Ms. Ernst, this is a return to the character of Lula, a role she first embodied in the 2013 production at the young age of 22.
Ernst reflected on the play’s enduring relevance: “It’s sort of that old saying of like, ‘Wow, this piece is still relevant, how amazing and how sad.’ I think that that’s really struck me this time around.”
With her hair in a high ponytail, vibrant red lipstick, and a striking red bikini beneath a black mesh dress, Ms. Ernst’s Lula alternately seduces and provokes Clay. Her monologues veer wildly from contemptuous declarations like, “You’re a well‐known type,” to bizarre and unsettling imagery such as, “You look like death eating a soda cracker.”
As the sauna’s heat intensified its grip, shoulders slumped, plastic water bottles crinkled as guests sought refreshment, and some individuals completely discarded their robes in search of relief.
Forty audience members sat closely on wooden benches, enveloped in darkness, while actors, lit only by flashlights, performed intimately before them.
Mr. Johnson, 48, expressed the organic feeling of the setting, noting, “It felt so natural. It’s almost strangely obvious.”
Performa founder RoseLee Goldberg conversed with artist Sara Cwynar. The evening commenced in the bathhouse’s restaurant, where robed attendees chatted phone-free over “Russian Home Cooking.”
Upon entering the Russian Room, Lula’s playful flirtation had transformed into something far darker. Her performance was a torrent of shrieks, moans, baby-talk, and venomous racist remarks.
The agitation in the room was palpable. Breathing grew increasingly strained. Audience members began dousing themselves with water from their bottles. A man near the sauna stove stood and paced, visibly grappling with the decision to leave before ultimately choosing to remain for the duration.
As actor Jerod Haynes articulated, “The heat is the main character. It forces you to confront what’s in front of you.”
As Clay’s presence swelled, the audience seemed to shrink. His suppressed rage finally erupted, spiraling with the force of a salad spinner, casting droplets of sweat and spittle across the already sweltering room.
Restaurateur Daniel Humm of Eleven Madison Park and his wife, actress Annabelle Dexter-Jones from ‘Succession,’ shared a moment with Rashid Johnson before the performance.
Post-performance, attendees found relief by submerging themselves in the cold plunge pool.
The audience, by then, had fully integrated, becoming fellow subway passengers, sharing the humid struggle with Lula and Clay. This immersion deepened to a chilling degree in the climactic finale, where they transformed into unwilling witnesses to a simulated murder.
When Lula’s knife clattered to the floor, the audience was left in a stunned silence, quickly followed by an eager applause.
The performers gracefully accepted bouquets of roses and bowed to the captivated audience.
With a raw exclamation, Mr. Haynes declared, “Now let’s get out of here!” The theatergoers responded with cheers, eagerly exiting the intense Russian Room and heading straight for the cold plunge.
Even Daniel Humm, the renowned restaurateur of Eleven Madison Park, who is accustomed to saunas, described the experience as “uncomfortable, which was the point.”
His wife, Annabelle Dexter-Jones, known for her role in ‘Succession,’ added, “It was intense. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
As others wrung out their soaked towels, Matthew Filbert, 31, remained on a bench, lost in thought, staring blankly ahead.
He confessed, “I’m just trying to digest it, honestly.”