Spectacle of theater plays out in exhibit

The problem with the exhibit is that it attempts to cover all these themes. Curators Jessica Morgan and Catherine Moore of the Tate Modern, where the show originated, have organized it in a haphazard fashion, so the ideas all run together and get lost.

The best art in "The World as a Stage," which claims to draw inspiration from London's rich theatrical tradition, brandishes a theatrical razzle-dazzle. Part of what makes it good is a delightful bait-and-switch with the audience, turning the viewer into the actor. This is the meatiest topic in the show.

Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster's moody and beautiful "Séance de Shadow II (bleu)" neatly collapses viewer into performer. Enter the dark, empty room, and you trigger lights near the floor, which throw your shadow up against a blue wall. The lights go on and off as others pass or as you stand still, and the play of shadows constantly changes. The intimate experience brings many of theater's magical qualities to the fore: the quiet, the darkening of the house, dramatic lighting, the sense of a performance before your eyes - and it's all the viewer's one-person-show.

When it comes to spectacle, Jeppe Hein's "Rotating Labyrinth" feels like an Op-Art merry-go-round come to life. Hein has erected mirrored pillars on turntables, one inside the next and spinning in opposite directions. It's dazzling to watch from the outside as reflections merge and separate. Step inside, and you're caught in a slow-moving mirrored hall, with the outside world regularly winking in. With all those reflections, once again the viewer becomes the actor.

"Arena," Rita McBride's enormous, curving set of bleachers, sits outside "Rotating Labyrinth." The placement suggests that "Labyrinth" is a stage and "Arena" the place for the audience, but the connection feels forced because the formal theatrical separation between stage and audience does not exist in a museum. "Arena" is as much a stage as "Labyrinth," just not nearly as fun and provocative.