Ran
Xia uses Greek mythology and anonymous testimonies from people all over the
world in a mixed-media meditation on loss.
Imagine being stuck in a purgatory for lost
objects, alongside a person with whom you are in love, but he is only into
himself. And now imagine that you can’t speak to him first, and are bound to
only repeat his words. So begins Echo, an experimental theater piece by Ran Xia
inspired by the ancient Greek myth. The two characters on stage, Echo (Andrea
Lopez) and Narcissus (Max Henry), are joined by an audio chorus of 25 people on
the intricately woven soundtracks. Xia, a playwright and sound artist, met with
me prior to the show to talk about her creative process.
Max Henry and Andrea Lopez in Echo. Photo by Ran Xia. |
I lost a wallet twice within a year as well as a lot of other stuff. I keep imagining my lost things are somewhere. Nothing is ever completely lost, right? I wanted to use that theme to connect with different people and started to reach out with a questionnaire: "What is your most treasured memory? What are you happy to lose?"
As
the audience dives into the sound waves of anonymous testimonies, two
characters look for Echo’s missing voice while sorting through the assortment
of random objects.
I was reading a children’s book called Echo. It’s a journey of a harmonica and its different owners, how
their lives are changed through a memory of an object. And I kept thinking
about the objects that we owned and we lost. Sometimes they carry through a lot
of different lives.
Memory
stored in objects is an echo of different people’s lives. To this end, the set
design consists of carefully assembled random objects, inviting the viewers to
discover new things along with Echo and Narcissus. It’s amusing to imagine who
owned a Barbie doll in a voluptuous pink dress, or find an Easter egg nodding
to Xia’s previous show Pomegrenade, based on a different Greek myth. Much
like pre-recorded testimonies, these visual objects create a strong magnetic
field, evoking the viewer’s own personal memories.
Echo
treats the objects that surround her as would a curious child who believes in
magic. There is something playful and simultaneously ritualistic in the way
Lopez tries to appropriate sound by swallowing bells or fanning air into her
mouth. But those methods prove to be of no use. It takes another being,
Narcissus, to break the spell. Yet he needs to lose something first in order to
find and be found.
I initially thought this piece was going to
be more about losing people, family members or friends. But as we started to
work with my director and actors on the story of Echo and Narcissus, it becomes
more and more about the development of the relationship, which we explore in
the questionnaire as well: "What is your most terrible memory? What is
something you’re most afraid to lose at the moment?"
Lopez
and Henry act like a couple of teenagers needlessly hurting each other’s
feelings. We could easily forget that we are watching two deities, if not for
their names and the fact that Echo can only repeat what she hears. The latter
restriction is no easy obstacle when it comes to crafting meaningful dramatic
dialogue. Yet the duo, directed by Nicholas Orvis, powers through by using all
the means that they have at their disposal: physical games, drawing, and
origami. By wrestling the task of staging, Echo searches for alternative ways of “voicing”
one’s agency and manifesting oneself.
The
audio “ghosts” inhabiting this “no-place” give the characters their voices.
Sometimes literally, when they retell the story of Echo and Narcissus. But
mostly by creating a stream of experiences with flow together with the love
story. You can tell how much care and genuine interest Xia puts into creating
these "sound sculptures." The experiences of ordinary people get
molded with music and ambient sound to create an intricate narrative tapestry
all its own.
Audio experience, for me, has always been
more intimate than performances that are limited to visual. The anonymity of
that helps to make it as authentic as possible. We’ve all been through so much
that we don’t really let others in. My favorite part is finding the
similarities between experiences of different people, no matter their
background and age. That feels magical to me.
Xia
manages to convey this sense of magic in the ordinary. The flow of the spoken
word and sound design feels like a tide that picks you up and pulls you into
the depths of your own associations. But then comes silence, and you are on the
shore again, where the dialogue of Echo and Narcissus feels like the sharp
edges of broken shells. The meticulous design, emphasized by the thoughtful
lighting by Ariella Axelbank, is inviting and incredibly beautiful. But it is
the way that Echo sounds
that makes it a one-of-a-kind theatrical treat.
__________
Echo played at The Tank, 312 West 36th
Street, through April 21, 2018. Running time was 65 minutes, no intermission.
Tickets were $15. For more information and recordings from the show visit thearcticgroup.org.
Echo is by Ran Xia.
Directed by Nicholas Orvis. Audio Design by Ran Xia. Lighting Design by Ariella
Axelbank.
The
cast is Andrea Lopez and Max Henry.