Reality TV. Social media. Influencers. Take a picture of your meal, gurn at the camera, show everyone how wonderful your life is.

It’s all about image and perception. But is that image the truth, is it a lie, or does the truth depend on your own view of reality?

Depending, then, on your outlook, The Wellspring is either a simple play dealing with complex issues, or a complex play dealing with essentially straightforward, family issues.

Written and performed by Barney Norris and his father, the acclaimed pianist and composer David Owen Norris, it’s described by Barney as an exploration of his father’s music. Well, perhaps, perhaps not. The truth of this play, as I see it, is that it’s a piece of therapeutic writing by Barney, trying to rationalise his place in the world and understand his relationship with his hugely talented dad.

We learn early on that Barney’s parents split up when he was a child and, as such, he grew up somewhat distanced from his father: not estranged, but not really bonding. Now, they’re finding connection through creativity, but you sense there’s still a void between them.

Barney’s dad has a simple philosophy: take your music where you find it, he says, and he’s learnt that he must play music only as he hears and feels it. He’s successful, but always true to his own self-image and beliefs; his own truth, if you will.

Barney, in contrast, portrays himself as a struggling writer. The pressure Barney feels is the pressure of heredity, of wanting to know where he fits into his family cycle, whereas his dad seems to have avoided that kind of soul-searching simply by acknowledging his own talent and being accepting of whatever it might bring him.

This, then, is a reality play for the virtual unreality age. It’s gentle, sad and endearing and, being less than 90 minutes long, it doesn’t overplay its hand.

But does it give us any answers? Well, you sense that Barney’s still searching for those, still seeing himself as a struggling writer. That’s possibly true, but when you look at his list of credits, you realise that even that’s a matter of perception: if he’s struggling, then he’s struggling quite successfully. Nevertheless, his struggle is far more real and interesting than any Instagram picture of a snowy-toothed, permatanned-half-wit’s lunch. And that’s the truth.