Dimes Square, technically a microneighborhood of Manhattan between Chinatown and the Lower East Side, is renowned for its particular cultural attributes: an overpopulation of twenty-one-year-old recent graduates of liberal arts college and an underpopulation of anyone who’s ever worked a service job. But to define Dimes Square doesn’t do it justice: it may exist in the boundaries of NYC’s boroughs, but it is something of a state of being, or, a “vibe” as the kids say. Anywhere can be Dimes Square if you try hard enough. All one needs is a group of artists that lack depth—but never lack cocaine—and an unbelievably beautiful loft that creates an aura akin to an acutely curated corner of the internet.
Matthew Gasda and his company, The Brooklyn Center for Theater Research, knows this, which is why on Tuesday night, December 17, I stepped into an unbelievably beautiful, expensive Tribeca loft and left my shoes at the door. Dimes Square [Manhattan edition] is part revival, and part homage to the play’s earlier life in 2022, when it became an underground hit that landed Gasda a feature in The New York Times. First appearing in lofts all over Brooklyn, Dimes Square has made its way much closer to the “scene” with this rendition. Written and directed by Gasda, this production features an ensemble of young, chic actors, some more established literary figures-turned-actors, such as Christian Lorentzen, and one Australian shepherd whose name I didn’t catch. Produced by Gasda, Anastasia Wolfe, and Asli Mumtas (who both also serve as performers), designed by Henry Mont, and graciously hosted by Julia Skrak, Skye Freeman, and JG Debray, Dimes Square is a two-hour physical manifestation of what Caroline Calloway’s Instagram feed probably once looked like.
Iris (Sadie Parker) and Nate (Nick Walther) are snuggled on the sofa, framed by ginormous windows, bottles of wine, and stacks of books. Together they lament: about their relationship, about Nate’s new album – a musician who’s had accusations of sexual harassment lodged on him, this is Nate’s first as an adult after finding early fame as a teenage musician – and Iris’s poetry MFA. Soon, they’re joined by the rest of the precariously situated group. There’s Stefan (Dan Blick), the owner of the apartment and a young star author who is receiving acclaim for a book no one likes, and his new girlfriend Ashley (Colette Giselle), an NYU acting major who is learning the art of weaponizing naiveté. Klay (Malcolm Callendar), a seeming permanent fixture of the apartment, consistently ignores his assignments at Vice to do coke and beg others to see him as a real writer. Olivia (Cosima Gardey) is British. Rounding out the group is the later arrival of Terry (Sean Lynch), the dark, brooding filmmaker who believes he is the only one with a coherent artistic vision. A few more characters wander through the living room: a visual artist, a pair of aging and angst-riddled writers, and a cinematographer who actually works for a living.
Stefan is upset that Terry is gaining traction for his new film, “The Work of Fire.” Terry is upset that Stefan slept with his ex-girlfriend. Ashley is kind of upset that Terry got so drunk that he kissed her and then cried. Iris thinks about breaking up with Nate because of the possible validity allegations made against him by his younger female fans. Nate feels guilty about not seeing his dad enough. Klay and Olivia seem to be doing fine, all things considered.
The play is more of an amalgamation of characters than a true narrative. I couldn’t summarize exactly what the play is about, other than some inhabitants of Dimes Square doing drugs and partaking in hollow introspection. About halfway through Act 1, I realized this wouldn’t be going anywhere in particular. I do believe there exists intentionality in its meandering direction, or rather, a lack of narrative direction, completely. This structure, or anti-structure, is perhaps the commentary the play is making: what these characters care about most in the entire world is others’ perceptions of them. To present this nature of depiction, Gasda and Co sacrifice plot in favor of study, using irony as a shelter, these characters avoid the challenge of trying to find meaning within life or within their artistic mediums. The shallowness of these personas will only ever lead to art that is, in turn, shallow.
This level of self-consciousness makes for an entirely curated persona that doesn’t get to anything real or genuine, much less one capable of creating art with any meaning.
Is this why we don’t learn what Terry’s movie or Stefan’s book is actually about? We don’t hear any of Nate’s music. We get glimpses of a painting that is quickly put down as “self-parody” and we hear just a short poem from Iris that can only be described as MFA nonsense. The only full-bodied work we get to know is from a writer from an older crowd (Christian Lorentzen). He is not a product of the Dimes Square upbringing, but rather just a visitor enjoying the spoils of children with unlimited parental funds. He spends his time on the couch critiquing everyone around him, which was actually a welcome change from the others’ incessant self-analysis. It would be impossible to label any one character as a protagonist or attempt to map out any arc. That would require these characters to have inner lives that extend beyond pretending to have read Augustine’s Confessions.
While the characters of Dimes Square may feel eerily and unfortunately familiar, the audience experience was something wholly unique. Sitting on a sofa in a living room, with my socked feet tucked under me, I had never felt more involved and immersed in a play than I did on this evening, in this room. And yet Dimes Square is expressly not immersive. Reassured in the lengthy preshow speech by Gasda that the actors would not interact with us, I felt the audience, most of whom were sitting on folding chairs ordered that day from Home Depot, let out a sigh of relief. I did too. But as the play began, I felt a bit like an invisible party guest. At times, it was thrilling to be voyeuristic and get an intimate peek into the lives of these adult children. And at others, I felt a little left out. Why wasn’t I offered a shot, a beer, a cig, a line? I’m sitting right here! Dimes Square was the unbelievably rare production where I found myself craving more audience interaction. This is a testament to Gasda’s directing style, along with some breakout performances by Collette Gsell, Sean Lynch, Asli Mumtas, and Anastasia Wolfe.
What Dimes Square lacked in production value, it made up for in its honesty and the strength of its conceit. There was a five-minute hold to the start of the show as Gasda tried to figure out where to put a plant so that its leaves weren’t encroaching on an audience member. He announced during intermission that there was only one restroom, but there might be a second secret one that a cast member could lead you to if the line gets too long. The play ended with the actors telling us, “It’s over now.” It was refreshing not to have to act like the location of this play, an apartment, was anything other than an apartment; and it was freeing to watch a play without having to instill any intellectual emotional nuances on any part of its narrative. Gasda’s Dimes Square is an opportunity to drown out the grounded, the real, and the political, and instead have a great time indulging in the superficial. It’s a party I’m glad I was invited to and would consider attending again– especially if offered a line.
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