Zora (April Matthis) and Pilar (Carmen M. Herlihy) try to save the bees in Kate Douglas’s The Apiary (photo by Joan Marcus)
THE APIARY
Second Stage Theater
Tony Kiser Theater
305 West 43rd St. between Eighth & Ninth Aves.
Tuesday – Sunday through March 3, $62-$106
2st.com/shows
There is no evidence that theoretical physicist Albert Einstein ever said, “If the bee disappeared off the face of the Earth, man would only have four years left to live.” That doesn’t mean that the apocryphal viral quote doesn’t have some truth in it, as explored in Kate Douglas’s The Apiary, making its world premiere at Second Stage’s Tony Kiser Theater.
As the audience enters the space, Pilar (Carmen M. Herlihy) is working at a desk stage right in a beekeeping suit, filling test tubes with dead bees, one by one, while listening to beloved 1970s hits by ABBA and others. There’s a similar desk stage left (which curiously goes unused); in the center is a lab shrouded in floor-to-ceiling netting, which contains four small beehives, a rolling table, industrial lighting, and a large yellow-tinted cube known as the graveyard. It’s not only bees who are endangered; the play is set twenty-two years in the future, but it could just as easily be tomorrow.
Cece (Nimene Wureh) walks in, sits in a chair in front of the lab, and talks to an unseen person about the proper way to treat bees. “Mama said — ‘If you don’t tell the bees about important events in your life, the bees will die. And lay a curse on the whole family.’” She then describes how, when her brother got married and did not tell the bees, the bees stopped making honey and nearly died until her mother intervened, showing the bees the wedding album. “They recovered,” Cece explains. “That time, they recovered.”
Gwen (Taylor Schilling) has some intriguing questions for Bryn (Nimene Wureh) in Second Stage world premiere (photo by Joan Marcus)
The employees in this synthetic apiary are attempting to restore the fading bee population, facing disappointment after disappointment. Pilar is joined by Zora (April Matthis), a biochemist who has left a plum position in pharmaceuticals to become a low-level functionary in the downstairs of this mediocre facility, where “upstairs” never deigns to visit. When Pilar asks Zora why she made the change, Zora answers simply, “I like bees.” Pilar compares the job to be being a palliative caregiver, warning Zora, “This may be hard for you then. A lot of sweeping up dead bees. A lot of dead bees. A lot a lot of dead bees.” Zora replies, “I think it’s important. Not everyone wants to be there for the end. But someone should be here. Give them that.”
Their supervisor is the ultraserious, by-the-book Gwen (Taylor Schilling), who is immediately angry that proper hiring procedure and notifications have not been followed. She is suspicious of Zora, telling her that it is a bare-bones operation. “This isn’t some flashy experimental job with lots of funding and vacations and a 401K, okay. This isn’t — space exploration,” she states.
Zora is soon suggesting methods that might get the bee numbers back up, but Gwen, who has an ambitious five-year plan to become project director, argues that she is too busy trying to save their jobs to write reports requesting more funding, which could take months and months. Zora says that she’ll pay for all the materials herself, which intrigues Gwen. After one research method fails, a second, more promising and secretive one falls in Zora’s lap — but at a formidable cost.
Cece (Nimene Wureh) offers insight into how to restore the bee population in The Apiary (photo by Joan Marcus)
The bees’ life force is represented by Stephanie Crousillat, who occasionally pops up in the graveyard and performs interpretive dance; the more energetic she is, the more time the bees have, and, sadly, the more tired and withdrawn she is, the closer the bees are to the end. Her tight-fitting, barely there costume includes a vaguely insectlike mask, a stark contrast to the white lab suits worn by Zora, Pilar, and Gwen. (The costumes are by Jennifer Moeller, with scenic design by Walt Spangler, lighting by Amith Chandrashaker, sound by Christopher Darbassie, and original music by Grace McLean.)
At one point, Gwen, condemning space travel, shouts, “Like WE HAVE THINGS TO DO ON THIS PLANET YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!!!” The cry gets to the heart of Douglas’s sharply stinging plot, which is as much about the bee crisis as the human one. When Cece describes how her mother related to bees, she could have just as well been talking about how people relate to one another and to the natural world; personal communication is vital, and in 2024, as well as 2046, people need to interact with others and with the earth’s creatures. When Zora explains about being there at the end for bees, she could have just as well been talking about how humans face death, that people need to be cared for and not merely left alone to die.
Director Kate Whoriskey (Clyde’s, Sweat) cleverly pollinates the story as it evolves into a taut thriller. Emmy nominee Schilling (Orange Is the New Black, A Month in the Country) is on target as Gwen, who has trouble seeing the forest for the trees as she battles so much red tape and personal ambition. Lucille Lortel nominee Herlihy (Bachelorette, A Delicate Balance) is sweet as honey as Pilar, who always tries to find the good in everything. Obie winner Matthis (Primary Trust, Toni Stone) again demonstrates her impressive range as Zora, who is determined to do whatever is necessary to save the planet. [ed. note: Matthis will be replaced by two-time Tony nominee Kara Young for the final week of the run, due to a scheduling conflict.] And Wureh shines in four roles, giving Cece, Kara, Anna, and Bryn distinct characteristics as they get involved in the project in a surprising way.
“The bees are very sensitive and so so smart,” Pilar tells Zora. “They dance! They tell jokes.”
She’s not just talking about the bees.
[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]