The Dybbuk

This project is a queer adaptation of THE DYBBUK, a 1925 Yiddish play by S. Ansky. A dybbuk is a “clinging spirit” in Jewish lore. A soul on earth, disembodied by death. The dybbuk possesses the body of a living person.

Possession is the central theme of the project: as a physical “fact” in the story onstage, and as a metaphor for all that inhabits us beyond our “selves” – social convention, tradition, relationships of all kinds: family, lover, friend, enemy. This is rich territory for exploration beyond the “settled facts” of individualism. For me, this comes up especially around my queerness. I feel haunted by the conventions that are in me, but not of me.

I began “The Dybbuk Project” six months ago when I discovered Ansky’s play. In my directing practice, I often act as midwife or shepherd for other artists’ projects (Our Country, Weightless, Love Is a Dirty Word) where canonical texts are paired with personal narrative to shed new light on both. I discovered THE DYBBUK as I researched a project exploring my personal narrative for the first time. In it I found the theatrical material that elucidates my own experience, and vice versa.

Workshop, Mercury Store NYC

September 2023

In a weeklong residency at the Mercury Store in NYC, I explored this question: how does a possession scene look in a 3D draft?

With a company of 6 actors, and using magic with illusionist Christian Cagigal, I explored the poetico-physical ways that the spirit of Chonene (the dybbuk) might “enter” the body of Leah (their beloved) – how do 2 bodies become one?

In US pop-culture, possession is an analogue for destruction – the possessee must reclaim their bodily autonomy from the “intruder.” In THE DYBBUK and other traditional Jewish narratives, possessions are visitations — a dead lover, an old friend, colleague or nemesis. It may not always be a happy visitation, but it is always somehow intimate or familial.

The physical ideas you can see in the video above reveal this tension. Leah wants Chonene — but Chonene is dead. It’s her wish come true when Chonene appears out of nowhere. But it’s frightening too. Is the spirit that appears from “the other side” truly her beloved? Or some other manifestation? And even if this is Chonene, what does it mean for Leah to yield her body to their spirit? Sharing one flesh with one’s beloved is a romantic idea, but a terrifying prospect when considered in fact.