Elektra, at solstice
a site-specific dance performance and communal celebration of the summer solstice. in June of 2022, Elektra— my one-woman adaptation of the Sophoclean classic in collaboration with Abigail Hendricks — reemerged wordlessly and exploratorily at Lane Beach in Chicago. this performance was an expansion of the world of our story through movement and further illuminated the potential of immersive, multi-modal storytelling. much, much more to come…
the story
setting: near the palace of Mycenae
years ago at the onset of the Trojan War, King Agamemnon– father of Iphigenia, Elektra, Orestes, and Crysothemis– killed a sacred deer in the grove of Artemis while preparing to sail to Troy. the goddess was enraged by his arrogance and decreed that he sacrifice his eldest virgin daughter, Iphigenia, in exchange for the life of the deer. the King refused the demand for months, as Artemis stopped the winds and made sailing impossible. amidst the growing pressure from his army, Agamemnon eventually beckoned Iphigenia under the false pretense of a marriage match. at Aulis, Iphigenia begged for her life and the grief-ravaged Klytemnestra was jailed and unable to intervene. the 13-year-old Iphigenia was sacrificed and her body was thrown out to sea, the winds moving once again. upon returning to Mycenae, Klytemnestra’s vengeance escalated and became her will to live. 10 years passed along with Elektra’s lonely adolescence: always awaiting her father’s return, always grieving for her sister. Klytemnestra incestuously bedded the power-hungry Aegisthus and when Agamemnon returned to Mycenae, the lovers murdered him as revenge for the slaying of Iphigenia.
our Elektra commits herself to a life of perpetual mourning. she rages at the murder of her father while lamenting the death of her sister, trying to find her place in a family cursed by violence that begets violence. her grief is boundless, ravaging her body and psyche as she locks herself away from a world too deathstricken to bear. she is a part of the ancient Greek traditions that entrusted women with the work of public grieving– wailing loudly, beating their bodies, ripping hair from their heads– and the pouring of sacred libations: milk, oil, wine.
today, in the light of the solstice– a day when the veil between the heavens and the earth is at its thinnest– Elektra sneaks away from the palace. sun on her back for the first time in years, fresh air intoxicating, she returns to a beach riddled with memories and asks them to dance.