Butt in Brand

Accompanied by the soft crackle of cotton candy, the three performers throw themselves into loud confrontations, hurting and reconciling with one another. In this playful quarrel, the ensemble unites with the light-footed shimmer of a chorus of diverse voices, until pent-up conflicts become so overwhelming that they can no longer be avoided.

Amid the cotton candy, questions arise—about staying together or parting ways, and how one or the other works.

“I want to love you. Or at least appreciate you. Or at least respect you. But I’ll put up with you.”

When we take in groups, structures, dynamics, and the world around us and try to situate ourselves within them, we’re confronted with our longing for clarity and quickly find ourselves torn when every action can be explained and ambivalence must be endured. How do we deal with ambiguity, especially when defending democracy and diversity requires taking a clear stand? Who belongs in the “we,” and who decides that?

So it remains difficult. But because we’re all in this together, grappling with this challenge, we can at least weave ourselves together through it—with sticky threads of sugar.

And we really should listen to everyone.

But at some point, enough is enough.

And you can’t always do that, either.

But you also have to want to.

The play, featuring fish bursting into flames, explores apologizing and what happens afterward; it’s about boundaries and red flags, and whether it’s ever okay to just call it a day—about the headaches or the celebration of ambiguity. And we don’t want to give up on ourselves. Really.