“Lucia” is a modern construction of the myth of martyr Saint Lucia, who was sentenced to be defiled in a brothel when she refused to offer a ritual sacrifice to honor the emperor. When the authorities attempted to move her, she would not budge. No oxen could pull her, no fire could burn her. Eventually, she was killed by blade.

In “Lucia,” we weave ideas of light, passage, movement, and scepter. We are interested in the power of voice to fill and command a space, to speak for Lucia and to Lucia. We call and chant to awaken Lucia and those who have fallen for standing for their truth.

During the performance, we are wrapped in red velvet, draped from shoulder to floor, our heads adorned with floral crowns and our eyes hidden by red fringe. We stand motionless, encircled by candlelit white salt. The audience enters the space, surrounding us, unaware of our presence. The poem “O Spectabiles Viri” by Hildegard of Bingen is read and a recorded score plays softly. Delicate layers of wordless chant fill the space with songs of human inequity, both modern and centuries-old. Our voices emerge from the red statue, weaving into the recorded sound. Other performers in the space, anonymous among the audience, add sounds of their breath, vocal rattle, and arching melodies to create an atmosphere both ethereal and intense. The work ends with swirling, raw, and ragged sounds. A gunshot-like door slam signals our emergence, and we rise up in voice and body as we discard our crowns, robe, and our silence. We exit the space.