The scene design, as mentioned, is perfect, as we’ve come to expect from Christopher Ostrom. The portrayal of Mont Ste.-Victoire in changing light gives visual staging to the crystallization of Cézanne’s vision. As the men’s conversations return sporadically to his art, the mountain is replaced by painting after painting, and in these moments one is struck afresh by the artist’s vision… you may wish to go back after the play and look him up again. And while you’re there, go re-read J’accuse to be reminded of l’affaire Dreyfus referred to in the play: Zola’s was a stand of utter courage and may go a ways toward understanding this character as other than simply the Cézanne antagonist in this piece. And it’s a reminder of our own times of the encroachment of politics even in artistic lives.

Upon entering the theater, it’s clear that the actual set will be a character in the play. Designed by Christopher Ostrom, it is the sole setting for this portrayal of the two childhood friends meeting again after years of not speaking. Émile Zola (Abe Goldfarb) pays an unexpected visit to Paul Cézanne (Todd Scofield) at his apartment/studio in Aix-en-Provence, France, at the turn of the 20th century. While the ultimate resolution of the play, a moment of strange revelation, fails to ring true, the journey toward that climax is filled with interesting philosophical debate about everything from the Dreyfuss affair in France in 1894 (familiarity with which is a prerequisite) to the nature of the artistic personality, aging, religion, and the importance of friendships, particularly those sustained from childhood on.

Though the play reveals the salient parts of the men’s life stories in bits of dialogue, it’s helpful to familiarize yourself in advance — hence the summary above. Then you can more easily appreciate their tête-à-tête, which is performed with dramatic flair by Todd Scofield (Cézanne) and Abe Goldfarb (Zola). What unfolds is a righteous drama about art and success, filled with slights and misunderstandings — and even some humor in the form of Cézanne’s overprotective servant, Mamselle (Anna Marie Sell). Cézanne is a perfectionist with a fragile ego, and Zola is a bit of a blowhard. Yet the emotional connection between these two brilliant and very different friends endures. Sasha Brätt directs the performers with fluidity and grace.

The two principals (dressed beautifully by costume designer Carol Sherry) circle and strike like tomcats, mostly in words but sometimes in deeds, fueled by generous pours from the decanter as they try to work out who they are to one another. Occasionally, Cezanne rings a handbell to summon Mamselle (Anna Marie Sell), a sometimes-cheeky young maidservant; she functions as an Everyperson for the rest of us mortals. Her role seems meek and yet, in the end she will occupy the same powerful downstage left spotlight in which Zola opened the narrative. For just as Cezanne reveals something important about himself to Zola, Mamselle enters the studio — for once, unbidden by the bell — to reveal something important about Zola to Cezanne. To say any more would truly spoil the plot.