Human Figure

Concept Human Figure reimagines Poulenc’s WWII cantata Figure Humaine, a defiant anthem of resistance and hope written during the Nazi occupation of France, through a contemporary lens. Staged in an underground car park, the production breaks opera’s traditional boundaries, decolonizing its forms and immersing audiences in the raw, unfiltered realities of global conflict and collective trauma. Confronting the echoes of oppression in today’s world, amid the devastation of the Ukraine war, the Gaza–Israel conflict, and the scars of the pandemic, it seeks to amplify silenced voices and offer a profound reflection on the human condition. Raised, educated, and having worked across the shifting borders between East and West, I carry with me experiences of constraint, loss, and transformation that continue to shape my artistic voice. I feel an unshakable responsibility to give form to the emotions that stay with me, grief, resilience, hope. In this fragile and uncertain moment of history, Human Figure becomes my act of witness and resistance. It goes beyond reflection, urging us to confront our collective pain while still daring to imagine a future shaped by courage and solidarity. During the early stage of research, I came across an article describing families seeking refuge in underground car parks during the bombing in Kyiv, Ukraine. This account stayed with me. Far from the realities of conflict, such situations remain unimaginable. Even with genuine empathy or compassion for those enduring war, understanding is confined by the privilege of distance. Empathy, in itself, is a privilege. I believe it's crucial to immerse the audience in a familiar yet transformed setting, prompting them to feel a fraction of what people in conflict zones experience. An underground car park, as a liminal space, is not designed for prolonged occupancy. Car parks are places of transition, never destinations. They carry an inherent discomfort—low ceilings, stagnant air, and a faint, musty smell. Over time, the disorientation grows: the loss of natural light blurs the sense of time, erasing distinctions between day and night. The car park functions as a rhetorical space, particularly through its repeated grid of 2.50 by 5-metre white rectangles. This imagery evokes parallels with the massive Fangcang shelters in China during the pandemic, where countless people were crammed into overcrowded facilities and stripped of privacy and autonomy. In this context, the underground car park shifts from an abstract concept to a stark and oppressive reality. It becomes a symbol of fear, uncertainty, and the unknown as people live under the constant threat of being forcibly thrust into such a space. The underground car park mirrors an underground community, where the parking spaces form invisible walls that subtly divide and contain individuals. This mundane, everyday environment stirs memories of growing up in a collectivist society, where individuality was often seen as rebellion and personal will was easily sacrificed for the collective. Extending beyond the theme of war, the car park symbolises the plight of innocent people forcibly thrust into purgatory by so-called authorities. At its core, the dramaturgic progression of this work follows those trapped in this liminal space, charting their journey toward freedom. Musical Approach Even though we refer to it as an opera, Figure Humaine is a cantata composed of two choirs and a conductor. Renowned as one of the most challenging vocal works, the piece employs the two choirs to represent two distinct groups of people, engaging in a dialogical exchange. Through their harmonies and dissonances, they embody agreement, disagreement, and the complexities of human interaction, all guided by the unifying presence of the conductor. I explored the relationship between the two choirs and the conductor in a more abstract and theatrical way. The conductor plays a crucial role in this piece, acting as a symbolic "the big other" within the underground community, an embodiment of ideology, authority, and regulation. This underground community serves as a microcosm of our world: a condensed reflection of how people live under control, where the conductor assumes the role of a totalitarian leader. But who are the people singing? A totalitarian leader might speak of "the true people of the nation" or "the will of the people," but this doesn’t refer to the diverse, real-life population. Instead, it represents an idealised or fictional version of "the people," constructed to fit the leader’s agenda. This "mythic people" becomes a tool—a justification for the leader’s power and actions. In this piece, we (the audience) observe the lives of real people whose pain, trauma, and struggles are ignored under the weight of an imposed ideology. From an external perspective, we witness their journey—drowning, awakening, and striving for liberty. Yet this liberty leads them into an uncertain future: a misty, unknown world where they might feel equally lost. When Poulenc and Éluard created Figure Humaine in 1943 and first performed it in 1945, there was a shared hope of rebuilding a new, united life after the devastation of war. Today, while we still long for peace, we find ourselves deeply disoriented, unsure of where we are headed. This tension between hope and uncertainty defines the experience of this piece in our present time. Artistic Approach The artistic approach of this production takes inspiration from the works of Surrealist artists, who masterfully used absurdity, metaphor, and biting sarcasm to critique the harsh realities of their time. The performance crafts surreal, dreamlike images that exaggerate and distort the mundane to reflect the cruelty of the world with a sharp, ironic edge. The narratives unfold within the confines of the 2.5 by 5-metre parking spaces, transforming the sprawling car park into a fragmented tapestry of stories. This arrangement evokes a 3D collage, where disparate yet interconnected lives and events are juxtaposed in a surreal, almost chaotic manner. These elements collectively mock the oppressive systems at play, blending dark humour with poignant commentary to invite the audience into a strange and hauntingly familiar world. Dramaturgy In the dramaturgy, while Figure Humaine’s lyrics and poems don’t provide a traditional theatrical plot, they convey a powerful emotional progression—from entrapment to freedom. This journey shapes the structure of the performance. Part One: Entrapment At the beginning, the performers embody individuals trapped in their circumstances. Each performer navigates their own story through physical movement while singing, all guided by the conductor. However, the conductor is represented as a pre-recorded silhouette devoid of identity or individuality. This video is projected or displayed across various devices scattered throughout the venue: in frames, on “posters,” on commercials at the “bus stop”, and on screens such as TVs, computers, and tablets. The repetition of sections prior to Liberté can be extended based on the demands of the physical choreography and the desired length of the performance. This flexibility underscores the prolonged nature of oppression and entrapment before the turning point is reached. Part Two: Awakening and Freedom As the final verse, Liberté, begins, the performers awaken. The imagery of the conductor flashes momentarily before being extinguished, signalling the collapse of imposed authority. The performers begin moving toward the car park’s exit while singing, breaking free from the space that once confined them. However, not all choose to leave. Those who benefited from the oppressive situation—those who, in their own way, already had “liberty”—remain behind. These individuals gather at a bus stop, an emblem of waiting and inertia, knowing the bus they anticipate will never arrive. The distinction between the two groups is further explored through the performers’ narratives, offering specific examples to enrich the storytelling. As the conductor’s image disappears, the sound of dripping water, like raindrops, emerges, providing a natural rhythm for the performers to follow. This rhythm suggests that the people are now guided by nature rather than authority. The performance intentionally embraces moments of chaos, reflecting the disorder of breaking free from control. This segment is particularly challenging for the choirs but celebrates imperfection and spontaneity. The Final Scene At the very end of the performance, additional performers drive into the car park, disrupting the delicate boundary between theatrical artifice and reality. This intrusion unsettles the audience, blurring the lines between the constructed performance and the everyday world, leaving them with a sense of ambiguity and reflection.