detheatermaker

What if Being itself is haun­ted by its own absence?

In Yet, Light, you are Blind, Luce Fiagan draws inspi­ra­ti­on from works of Denise Ferreira da Silva, Fred Moten, and words of Cheikh Ath: “…all the things unima­gi­na­ble in the light may be pos­si­ble in the dark,” pre­sen­ting a per­for­man­ce that explo­res the arche­ty­pe of the sha­dow, explo­ring its impact on who we are, both as indi­vi­du­als and as a group, and how it can sti­mu­la­te rene­wal. It’s an invita­ti­on to rethink iden­ti­ty, to see it not as some­thing fixed and cohe­rent, but as some­thing con­stant­ly dyna­mic, crack­ed, in gesta­ti­on, espe­ci­al­ly high­ligh­ting the con­nec­ti­on bet­ween sha­dows and Black identity.

Alone on sta­ge, yet sup­por­ted by a dyna­mic mul­ti­dis­ci­pli­na­ry team, Luce con­ju­res and con­ceals frag­ments of sha­dow, embo­dying the clown, cre­a­tu­re, ghost, and child. They bring to the sta­ge prac­ti­ces of Contemporary move­ment, Spoken Word, Stand-Up, and Rap amongst others — more or less codi­fied. This per­for­man­ce is a suc­ces­si­on of muta­ti­ons in form and sty­le, the refu­sal to be one — a body with its sha­dows, per­pe­tu­al­ly col­lapsing and recol­lec­ting itself, stum­bling through mea­ning and insig­ni­fi­can­ce, ensu­ring that a final form, a defi­ni­ti­ve still­ness, never tru­ly settles.