John Kelly Photo by Carol Rosegg

Henry Darger is considered by scholars as one of the pre-eminent figures in outsider art. When Darger moved into a nursing home shortly before his death, his landlord salvaged several hundred illustrations, collages, and watercolor paintings along with two massive novels (ranging from 8,500 - 15,000 pages), an extensive weather journal, and a 5,000-page autobiography. A recurring and controversial theme in his work is the endangerment of children, and many of his images depict nude minors. As art historian John MacGregor noted about Darger's oeuvre, "Like all true outsider art, it reflects both amazing artistic genius and a mentality that is very deeply strange and may even be deeply distasteful."

With a script by Beth Henley and starring performance artist John Kelly, Bughouse presents the key moments from Darger's life and writings. After his mother died when he was four and his younger sister was given up for adoption, as an adolescent, Darger was sent to an institution for "Feeble-Minded Children." There, he endured abuse and bullying until he eventually escaped, returning to Chicago to work as a hospital janitor.

Referenced throughout are allusions to Darger's monumental opus with the monumental title, "The Story of the Vivian Girls, in What is Known as the Realms of the Unreal, of the Glandeco-Angelinian War Storm, Caused by the Child Slave Rebellion." Animated images (impressively supplied by Ruth Lingford with cinematography by Fred Murphy and projections by John Narun) evoke Darger's idiosyncratic style while illuminating his conflicted relationship with God and his struggles with gender identity. This internal battle, the play suggests, may have been the true origin of his "Feeble-Minded" diagnosis. "One cause mainly of the boy being bad," Darger reflects, "was because he was angry at God for not having created him into a girl, which he wanted to be more than anything else."

In these moments, Kelly effectively captures the torment of a conflicted soul, where internal voices rage within while the external remonstrances of annoyed neighbors inveigh against the apartment walls. (Arthur Solari's sound design offers a rich aural landscape, and the voices ricochet across the auditorium.) What's missing, though, is a Beckettian lyricism that makes Darger's desperation and dogged persistence feel profoundly moving. Ultimately, the production provides snapshots of a life without truly burrowing inside the man.

Admittedly, my expectations for Bughouse were very high. I have long admired Clarke's work, and I treasure the memories of seeing such shows as The Garden of Earthly Delights, Vienna: Lusthaus, and Chéri. The performances blend dance, theatre, and music, and create sumptuous and sensuous experiences that seem a natural fit for the fantasy world Darger imagined. Additionally, Henley's Southern Gothic playwriting seems tailor-made for Darger's dark and eccentric narrative, and Kelly, whose meditative performance pieces intermingle the performing and visual arts, would appear to be the ideal interpreter. Unfortunately, the enterprise falls flat.

Running just over an hour, the piece is simultaneously too short and too long. The text gives a gloss of Darger's Dickensian upbringing, but the program notes achieve that more coherently. As a result, the audience leaves without a deeper understanding of the man and his work.

Despite the animated visuals, Bughouse lacks the exuberant theatricality one might expect from Clarke. Instead, the concept leans into the claustrophobia of the artist's life. Neil Patel's impressive production design offers a faithful recreation of Darger's cluttered apartment and studio (which may be viewed at Intuit: The Center for Intuitive and Outsider Art in Chicago), yet its slavish attention to veracity limits the expansiveness of the subject. (Faye Armon-Troncoso's set decoration and props, Christopher Akerlind's lighting, and Donna Zakowska costume design notably contribute to the hyperrealism.) Darger was noted for working on a grand scale, but here he is presented in miniature.

In the final moments of the play, Darger resignedly states, "God is too hard to me. I will not bear it any longer, for no one. It's too late." After a short pause, he returns to his desk, sits down, and resumes writing. As the lights dimmed, and perhaps after it was too late, Beckett and Bughouse were, at last, in alignment.