Kim Zhou (she/her/hers)
Kim Zhou is a theater designer and artist. Aspired and trained to be an architect, she discovered her fascination with theatrical experience during a summer study visiting Hadrian's Villa in Tivoli, Italy, among other places, including Teatro Olimpico in Vicenza. During the years earning her Bachelor's degree from OCAD University in Toronto, she worked on historical preservation/renovation projects in towns of rural China with cultural heritages of handicrafts and folk opera. She went on to pursue her MFA in scenic design at the Yale School of Drama and is currently in her final year of training.
Recent production credits include The Far Country (Yale Repertory Theater), Musical: Next to Normal (University Theatre); Pride365 (Yale Summer Cabaret); Opera: La Doriclea(associate scenic design, Yale Baroque Opera); Opera: The Fairy Queen (Crescent Theater); And the Beetle Hums (playwright), Every Brilliant Thing, Dr. Ride’s American Beach House, and We’re Gonna Die (Yale Cabaret).
She has been deeply intrigued by handicrafts, not only for the tactile experience——which the digital area is increasingly finding itself lacking; but also for the intricate bridging of the hands and the mind that sparks the imagination. Her very recent interests are puppet theater, the fabric works of Louise Bourgeois, and the therapeutical toys designed by Renate Müller.
In other times, she is a writer, visual story teller and she enjoys long walks
.
The Stage Space - A Small Manifesto, or Contemplation
A space on stage has many inhabitants.
It’s a space for light, to travel through paths, to improvise a lively dance, to hide in shadows of mystery, to accent the harshness, or to touch a surface and evoke consolation.
It’s a space for the acoustic, navigating how sound echoes within the space, which is by itself a musical instrument of different configurations and materials. Wood or metal, chamber or tunnel, they each inherit a distinguished acoustic quality.
It’s a space for actors to live in. In fact, their footsteps give the ground a name. They stumble on an uneven floor, floundering in mud and water, to jump for joy and make melodious sounds or amble along the street on a silent and tranquil night. The words with the specific vibrations name the air; the space that connects them with the sublime, the dreams, the wasteland of a barren and eager soul, or the trap of captivity, death, and despair.
It’s a space to give the most mundane objects a moment to manifest their beings so that we realize a chair is never merely a chair as we’ve always seen. We see poetry when a timely rain washes off the hardship and pain or a quivering flame of a candle telling a devastating story with a glimmer of hope. So that the audience can create a rainfall or lighten a match inside themself one day when they need it.
The stage is a space to recreate insightful seeings of humanity through a synthesis of art forms, from life towards something beyond.
How could we create a common space for these inhabitants to be alive?
Dec.1st, 2021