I was supposed to continue developing my new piece, Do Not Come Gentle. But given how violent the piece is, and how my current health situation cannot handle its demands, I have decided to revive and revise an old friend instead: Sana del Mundo (or Hopefully of the World). (Link to the original version can be found here.)
Reincarnating this piece into a new, active, more extended form is certainly an ambitious and daunting task. And I can easily foresee the many bouts of frustration ahead, having to revisit and deal with a difficult, challenging character. But these days, I need something that would discipline me back into the space of patience and understanding, and to continuously question what performance means--especially in a stagnant state. And San del Mundo, I realize, is a character designed prophetically for that.
Revised concept note (Edited):
A mysterious traumatic event drives a woman to pursue complete isolation and abstraction of identity. Internally broken and gone, she abandons every piece of reality in her life—her profession, her ambitions, her kin, her deepest companions, her lovers, her beloveds, her household, her town, her peace, her mind. While her physical whereabouts are largely unknown these days, the only certain proof of activity and existence from her is her e-mail account, which she uses to send strange emails to participating spectators every day, as well as private invitations to her most intimate, odd, and revealing performances around the metropolis.
Sana del Mundo (or Hopefully of the World) is a performance piece that attempts to blur the reality between the virtual and the actual, the private and the public, the ephemeral and the permanent. The piece is designed to stretch around two weeks, allowing us to follow and experience—in real time—the subtle arc of despairing events in a character’s sub/consciousness.
Our heroine, Sana del Mundo, is primarily embodied by and performed through an e-mail account. This account sends subscribing spectators daily e-mails containing enigmatic journal writings, poems, and other bizarre ruminations that unravel the beginnings of her detached reality and the pinnacle of her lonely madness. Interspersed with these emails are also private invitations to various happenings around the city where she demonstrates peculiar spectacles of herself, thus giving spectators the opportunity to witness the evolution of her psychosis as it finally overspills onto her body.
Her last invitation leads towards her cathartic end: a concluding spectacle that bids on the final resolution to exorcise secret demons so as to recover, remember, repair and reconcile every defeated particle of her sincere individualism—all in a forlorn attempt to become whole and concrete once more.