His Father’s Father


The audience enters through a dark corridor lined with black curtains and lit only by a small screen at the very end. On the screen, you gaze as the camera slowly travels over red curtains casting a red light down the entire corridor. As the audience travels down the corridor they are lured into the next space by a lullaby. The main space is dimly lit with a bench in the middle. Sitting down the audience is lulled by the sound. For the most part as they listen there are no words, just noises that are instantly recognisable as soothing, human sounds. However, cut in between these human sounds is a small anecdote about a grave my Grandfather found in New Orleans marked with the name of his father and his father’s father. As the audience sits, a performer comes in and out of the space and sits holding some people’s hands.