What would it mean to create a shabby analogue play in an era of climate crisis caused by runaway capitalism, an era where transnational platforms influence every part of daily life, an era where people’s thoughts and faces are quantified into data, and an era where we voluntarily open up YouTube every day, knowingly becoming subjects of algorithms?

 

To me, a play is a process to recover what has been stolen. Countless aspects of our daily lives have been deprived of their original attributes due to the ruling ideologies of capitalism, patriarchy, and power. As a director, I tried endlessly to regain values that have been taken away from our daily lives, such as worship and practice, gender and sexuality, faith and love, memory and mourning, and mythical imagination. Through my productions, I throw the question of what we have lost, the reasons why we have lost them, and how we should regain them.

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My theatre is a voice of resistance, refusing to be quantified into a pile of data. Certain unquantifiable elements become components of my productions. Each of my plays are struggles against the inevitable net of big tech’s algorithms. Rather than catching the waves of trends amongst the masses, I listen deeply to the voices of the marginalized. My journey has been centered around getting back what we have been deprived of – the way we speak and think – image, love, opinions, voices, faces, and community. I share sweat and tears with like-minded colleagues each day in this quest – in a small dust-covered black box theatre.  

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My theatre community, albeit inefficient and analogue, proudly ridicules the mass production of the capitalist masses. We struggle through disorganized storytelling and inefficient production to create moments that cannot be explained with logic. In my theatre, I do not expect to see an impeccable, smooth production. However, I silently look forward to observing changes in my colleagues; our appearances and thoughts are altered after the sequence of each production. This, I am sure, creates a sort of chemistry amongst the audience who witness our changes. Rather than to force change through arguing and shouting, I ask audiences about their reception towards change. I do not expect blind agreement; but I hope for the audience to go out into their walks of life, throwing their own questions towards the world. 

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My theatre community refuses to be one. The theatre is not a place where we are united in our tears, laughter, and feelings. Rather, the theatre is a site for unexpected shocks are presented, as vastly different identities culminate to create an exciting yet unique experience. A theatre is indeed a place where events inexplicable in the context of the real world take place, where those neglected by society can step up to become main characters, where the unseen can be seen and the unheard can be heard. Hence, my ideal audiences are not consumers who came to see an excellent play. It is those who may not feel as if their $30 entrance fee has been justified, but will go on to take the experience as a turning point in their lives. 

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I am indeed a foolish director who creates unprofitable inefficient works, with such a simple but impossible wish at heart.