The window of your home affords you a glimpse of an alien world. For you, the frame to the outside world serves less to connect you with that world and more to fortify your distance from it. In and through the window you observe another world taking place. If there is a rapport between you and this world, then it is only a visual one, vulnerable at all times to alienation and anxiety. You know your place in the cosmos. It centres at all times on the intersection between your home and the existence that takes place outside of that space. Dare you move beyond the home to find yourself in the world of contingency and chance, then almost immediately you are overwhelmed with regret. For you know that unlike the outside, your home maintains your presence in the world, securing you within a boundary line, which you have no reason to transgress.

For the tension in the theater is a very different, and very particular tension: this tension between the real and the imagined is the theater, and this is why the theater will always remain a necessity. One is not in the presence of shadows, but responding to one’s flesh and blood: in the theater, we are re-creating each other.