A Raw, Powerfully Strong Look at Family and Dementia.
Una Obra con Impacto.
Kenneth Lonergan’s The Waverly Gallery is a quiet storm. The story of Gladys Greene (Deborah Gilmour Smyth), an elderly art gallery owner in Greenwich Village whose world begins to contract under the weight of dementia. How her family brace, negotiate, denies, justifies, and ultimately surrenders to what cannot be fixed. It is the kind of story that presses on nerves (realities) we try (aim) to ignore: aging, loss of agency, the helplessness of loving someone whose mind is slipping away.
In this production, director Francis Gercke doesn’t shy away from that tension. He leans into the stress the play creates, letting it simmer without forcing it. The result is a kind of collective tightening—an audience held in a long, sustained inhale. What could not be contained, however, were the tears. At a certain point, we were all sniffing and puffing in unison, the room shifting from observation to shared grief. Gercke understood the assignment.
Deborah Gilmour Smyth as Gladys Greene, an absolute force. She ignites every possible emotion—raw, intense, and debilitatingly moving. Her performance captures the disorientation, the stubborn spark of humor, the repetition, and the moments of sudden, painful clarity. It’s the kind of work that rings in your chest long after the lights come up.
Tom Zohar, as Daniel, guides us through the experience with honesty. His narration is shaped by exhaustion and fierce devotion, with natural human slips. Katie MacNichol’s Ellen carries the impossible balance of patience and frustration—the emotional labor that so often falls on daughters. Alex Ameen as Howard and William Huffaker as Don round out the emotional ecosystem, adding texture to the family’s collapsing routines and unspoken battles. Alex alleviates the tension when he speaks to Gladys in a projecting voice. I think that the role of Don has been my favorite of William Huffaker so far. The intention and the feeling were so present. It almost made me feel like Don could have a sequel play.
Curtis Mueller’s lighting delivers contouring moments with a chill that creeps in exactly when it should, sharpening the emotional edges. Sound designers Evan Hart Marsh & Logan Kirkendall shaped the emotional atmosphere to a point where I wanted to pet and feed the unseen dog.
Duane McGregor’s set, along with Jeffrey Neitzel’s props, creates a space that feels lived-in, worn, and potently symbolic. There is a painting of the set within the set—a detail woven into the story—, and that broke me—like a reminder of memory trying to preserve what reality is slowly erasing.
Jessica John Gercke’s costumes, using everyday casual wear, grounded the characters: Don with splashes of paint on his jeans; Ellen, clean-cut; Daniel, practical and straightforward; Howard, also clean-cut; and Gladys, bohemian.
The playwright captured the desperation and helplessness that accompany this unfortunate, degenerative disease.
The Waverly Gallery is not a comfortable play. It isn’t meant to be, and this production honors that discomfort with grace. It captures the slow unraveling of a life and the way that unraveling tugs at everyone connected to it. The tears in the room were not accidental; they were the natural consequence of witnessing truth— devastating, and deeply human.
It also gives room for thought for our own lives, our aging loved ones, and us. How to consider grace, empathy, and patience.
Currently playing until December 6.
The Stage Manager for this production is Noah Schossow.
