World Premiere of (IN)STABILITY: Balance, Silence and Noise

Paul Budraitis grabs a stool and sits down in front of a young woman in the audience, face-to-face. He smiles and introduces himself. As they sit talking quietly, pleasantly, about people in their lives and what they have heard people talking about recently, Budraitis suddenly stops and says, "Hey ... I want you to know something..." The crowd falls silent. "Be gentle," the woman says softly.

"All those voices, all those things you think are you, they aren't you ... you are so much more than that." Tears begin to well up in her eyes, but she will not cry because, well, we are in public. And what will everyone think? As Budraitis' voice continues to comfort her, telling her how marvelous it is that she is alive and how wonderful she is to be who she is, so much more than she thinks, I can see a single teardrop in the corner of her right eye, slowly trickling down. Budraitis consoles her, withdraws and begins a new story about the last time he walked past a suicidal teenage girl on First Hill...

(IN)STABILITY is about the balancing act each human being carries out every day, trying to stay stable --- not just financially stable, but mentally stable, emotionally stable. The characters Budraitis creates in his one-person show are forever on the brink of stability, but usually on the outer edge rather than the inner. All exist in a state of want: wanting companionship, wanting love, wanting material things; but simultaneously wanting solitude, wanting indifference, wanting spiritual beauty.

Budraitis performs this with a deep respect and admiration for his fellow human beings caught up in this world. Mixing scenes of musical performance, stand-up comedy, narration, improvisation and direct address to the audience, Budraitis creates an atmosphere of incredible tension. He invites the audience to sense the crazy humanity in all his characters, but more importantly, in ourselves. After all, how can anyone ever balance all these conflicting desires?

Budraitis' answer might be: silence.

Silence is underrated. It is so foreign to modern American life that most of us actively shy away from it, or run from it at full gallop (as Budraitis' characters do). Yet silence is the heart of the play. All these voices --- the voices of the audience, the voices of his characters, even his own narrative voice --- these voices are simply noise. To find out who we really are, humanity needs to embrace the silence we have forgotten.

But silence terrifies. Life is much easier when there is a clear pattern, a routine, a script to follow. But if Budraitis' characters are any indication, following that script is madness itself.

The play ends in the dark. Ninety seconds of silence. Finally, an audience member nervously and vaguely begins to applaud. The rest of the audience joins in. We, too, are afraid of the silence. We want a script to follow. We want stability. Some lessons are hard to learn.

February 3-7 // On the Boards, 100 W Roy St // Tickets $20, available here