"When Sight Lost, Theatre Gained: How The Lehman Trilogy Helped Me Find My Way Again"
In my 40s, I started noticing that my vision was slowly deteriorating - night blindness and blind spots plagued me. But it wasn't the expected effects of aging; a genetic eye condition called retinitis pigmentosa had taken hold, causing the retina cells to die off. As a result, films became impossible for me to follow, artworks needed explanation, and I began questioning who I would be without my sight.
Over the next few years, my life was in free fall: divorce, business dissolution, new job, house move, and most tragically, the loss of my father. My eyesight took a hit too, with my field of vision narrowing to just 5-10 degrees by 2015. Despite being registered blind, I lived in denial, hiding my condition from colleagues and friends. At work, I played a performance of sightedness every day, exhausting myself trying not to reveal the vulnerability beneath.
I refused to accept that disability was part of my life, and the thought of using a white cane was unthinkable. But once I finally succumbed to reality, I discovered that people saw me as disabled before they saw me as an individual. My sense of identity began to unravel, and I stopped enjoying cultural activities that once brought me joy.
Three years after hitting rock bottom, I found myself at the National Theatre in London watching The Lehman Trilogy for the first time since my sight loss became permanent. I expected another frustrating experience, but what I got was a revelation. Es Devlin's high-contrast set design, combined with the simplicity and focus of the three-man cast, created an immersive world where I could finally follow the narrative.
The rotating set, with its cage-like structure, proved to be pivotal in my ability to absorb the performance without conscious thought about where to look or worrying that I was missing parts. The stripped-back staging laid bare the words, action, story, and theatre itself, allowing me to become one with the experience. It felt like I'd been reborn.
That first viewing of The Lehman Trilogy marked an epiphany - a realization that live performance offered me control over my experience. For three hours and 20 minutes, I was myself again, connected to the world on stage in a way I couldn't with other visual culture. Since then, pretty much every play has been like this for me, and I've come to understand that The Lehman Trilogy gave back not just sight but a sense of self.
Now, whenever I step into the theatre, I know what's waiting for me: an alchemy of immediacy and connection that only live performance can provide.
In my 40s, I started noticing that my vision was slowly deteriorating - night blindness and blind spots plagued me. But it wasn't the expected effects of aging; a genetic eye condition called retinitis pigmentosa had taken hold, causing the retina cells to die off. As a result, films became impossible for me to follow, artworks needed explanation, and I began questioning who I would be without my sight.
Over the next few years, my life was in free fall: divorce, business dissolution, new job, house move, and most tragically, the loss of my father. My eyesight took a hit too, with my field of vision narrowing to just 5-10 degrees by 2015. Despite being registered blind, I lived in denial, hiding my condition from colleagues and friends. At work, I played a performance of sightedness every day, exhausting myself trying not to reveal the vulnerability beneath.
I refused to accept that disability was part of my life, and the thought of using a white cane was unthinkable. But once I finally succumbed to reality, I discovered that people saw me as disabled before they saw me as an individual. My sense of identity began to unravel, and I stopped enjoying cultural activities that once brought me joy.
Three years after hitting rock bottom, I found myself at the National Theatre in London watching The Lehman Trilogy for the first time since my sight loss became permanent. I expected another frustrating experience, but what I got was a revelation. Es Devlin's high-contrast set design, combined with the simplicity and focus of the three-man cast, created an immersive world where I could finally follow the narrative.
The rotating set, with its cage-like structure, proved to be pivotal in my ability to absorb the performance without conscious thought about where to look or worrying that I was missing parts. The stripped-back staging laid bare the words, action, story, and theatre itself, allowing me to become one with the experience. It felt like I'd been reborn.
That first viewing of The Lehman Trilogy marked an epiphany - a realization that live performance offered me control over my experience. For three hours and 20 minutes, I was myself again, connected to the world on stage in a way I couldn't with other visual culture. Since then, pretty much every play has been like this for me, and I've come to understand that The Lehman Trilogy gave back not just sight but a sense of self.
Now, whenever I step into the theatre, I know what's waiting for me: an alchemy of immediacy and connection that only live performance can provide.