Dear reader

For a few years now, we’ve been crossing the city, entering numerous doors. As our home is slowly being rebuilt, many institutions are generously sharing their spaces with us, lending us the keys to their entrances. With the keys also come codes, languages, histories, different ways of welcoming. 

Through the joyful turns and the gritty encounters, our keyset is growing heavy with questions. Not all gates unlock smoothly, and what’s happening behind closed doors can sometimes be unpredictable. At times, one might be tempted to let it all go, exclaiming “fuck these keys and these walls as well”. These impulses are meaningful, as they push us to follow our agitation, an agitation we’re too often taught to tame. Thinking outside of existing structures is not only thrilling, it’s a necessity.

Yet an enclosed space also offers us room to think. What ideas, projects, and plans can simmer in a contained and protected space? Once the keys finally end up in the artists’ hands, they achieve something mad and tremendous: injecting whole universes into the theatre space, kneading and bending it into a new, temporary home. And even further, they let us in to experience it. 

It seems the best way to share a key. Inviting someone else to throw a party in your house, to open your eyes to the potential these rooms hold. 

Dear artists, thank you for inviting us in. Grab the keys and run with the set.

Dissident audience, feel welcome. In all your multiplicity, mad and soft, honest and gentle, unfiltered and compassionate. Please don’t be too polite, and make sure to leave the door open for the next ones. 

With hope always,

Kaaitheater