
Through family — through the shared, interconnected knots between the generations — a loose tapestry is woven that cinches down to become the present moment.
And so we find ourselves laughing, reflecting and understanding as we view a humane, accessible and embryonically powerful new work — Blue Door by Tanya Barfield, playing now at Oregon Contemporary Theatre.
Writing a book report or synopsis — or worse — revealing plot twists is the reviewer’s crutch. It’s one I hate to see, and one that would particularly extinguish the incandescence of this remarkable effort. So I’m not going to do that.
Revealing too much would do future audiences a disservice, robbing them of full immersion into Barfield’s words in this extraordinary vessel.
I can say that the play centers on two performances: Lewis, played with exquisite, relatable strength by Bobby Bermea — who also serves as the play’s director, with support from Jamie M. Rea — and Simon/Rex/Jesse, three wildly different characters, each imbued by Seth Rue with a simultaneous blend of cosmic multidimensionality and earthbound gravitas.
Bermea and Rue offer some of the best acting I’ve seen on a stage in Eugene, ever.
Scenic design by Megan Wilkerson allows the players to float in the universal: Is it a womb? Is it a planet? With the ropes, reaching vertically and tied to the theater’s rigging, are we inside a ribcage? Are we trapped within the spine of a hand-sewn history book? Is this the belly of a slave ship?
Wilkerson’s set is its own character, serving almost as a Greek chorus.
And how satisfying to see Michael A. Peterson’s revelatory lighting, composer Rodolpho Ortega’s evocative sound design and songs, and Sarah Gahagan’s spot-on costumes — all moving toward the same outcome, the same goal.
The artists’ collaboration, under Bermea’s unifying vision, carries this story to an otherworldly plane.
But don’t get the wrong idea. This show is also funny. Barfield’s writing is prismatic, crisp and focused. She bobs and weaves with a flawless cadence and delivers, in a mere 90 minutes, a baptismal experience.
How can something be written so masterfully that it roots itself in embodiment and reaches the firmament of the heavens at the same time?
How can something make you laugh out loud and also crack your heart open, so much so that, when it’s over, you forget where you parked your car?
This play makes discoveries from the get-go, and from there branches out like a fractal.
Blue Door continues through April 30 at Oregon Contemporary Theatre; $20-$30, visit octheatre.org or call 541-465-1506.
A Note From the Publisher

Dear Readers,
The last two years have been some of the hardest in Eugene Weekly’s 43 years. There were moments when keeping the paper alive felt uncertain. And yet, here we are — still publishing, still investigating, still showing up every week.
That’s because of you!
Not just because of financial support (though that matters enormously), but because of the emails, notes, conversations, encouragement and ideas you shared along the way. You reminded us why this paper exists and who it’s for.
Listening to readers has always been at the heart of Eugene Weekly. This year, that meant launching our popular weekly Activist Alert column, after many of you told us there was no single, reliable place to find information about rallies, meetings and ways to get involved. You asked. We responded.
We’ve also continued to deepen the coverage that sets Eugene Weekly apart, including our in-depth reporting on local real estate development through Bricks & Mortar — digging into what’s being built, who’s behind it and how those decisions shape our community.
And, of course, we’ve continued to bring you the stories and features many of you depend on: investigations and local government reporting, arts and culture coverage, sudoku and crossword puzzles, Savage Love, and our extensive community events calendar. We feature award-winning stories by University of Oregon student reporters getting real world journalism experience. All free. In print and online.
None of this happens by accident. It happens because readers step up and say: this matters.
As we head into a new year, please consider supporting Eugene Weekly if you’re able. Every dollar helps keep us digging, questioning, celebrating — and yes, occasionally annoying exactly the right people. We consider that a public service.
Thank you for standing with us!

Publisher
Eugene Weekly
P.S. If you’d like to talk about supporting EW, I’d love to hear from you!
jody@eugeneweekly.com
(541) 484-0519