Performance
Fear, liveness, play, text, improvisation, embodiment
December 2022

What would happen if I confessed to being vulnerable?

For a period of an hour and a half, I sat in the wall of Gallery 3 at the Anna Leonowens Gallery and confessed my fears – extemporized, at a consistent rhythm, constantly for the duration of the piece. Audience members could access the piece by listening at or peering into a small rectangular slot in the wall. There was no light inside the wall, so they would have to peer for a while before being able to see me sitting next to the opening. I chose to stay in the same position for the duration of the piece, facing forward 90 degrees away from the door, meaning that I was unable to look at any of the audience members, though I could sense their presence through my peripheral vision and by hearing the sound of the outer gallery change as the audience member drew close.

The fears that I found myself speaking ranged from heartfelt and difficult to mundane and humorous. The Catholic confessional element of the piece came from my upbringing and brief stint as an altar girl when I was 11. What is it to confess to being afraid? What does it feel like to spend an hour and a half thinking of the things I am afraid of? After performing the piece, I felt like I could have spent a longer time in the performance and not run out of things to say.