Surreal. And yet utterly relatable. Immersive. And yet distantly isolated. Unfathomable. And yet completely imaginable. This paradox of experiences is what awaits the theatrical explorer that could— and should— be you, with Submersive Productions’ latest offering: Katalepsis. Welcome to a world set many generations in the future, where humanity has been wiped from the face of the earth by a virus, and only a precious few— four to be exact— remain, supported by mysterious benefactors, who keep them alive for the sake of artistic creation. It’s both not as dark and exactly as dark as it sounds. But it’s truly remarkable and wondrous strange. Submersive Productions is the closest thing that the east coast is ever likely to get to Meow Wolf, an interactive, world-building, art installation, but Submersive Productions adds the much-needed and thoroughly enjoyable layer of live performers blended into the mixture. Katalepsis is a fascinating experience and exploration of all sorts of mesmerizing theatricality as well as deeply evocative topics like isolation, togetherness, and how life as we experience it can exist beyond what we know.
It’s impossible to describe in all of the praiseworthy detail that a production like Katalepsis deserves what exactly you’re going to experience for two reasons. The first being that every person’s experience will inherently be different; even if you return to see Katalepsis more than once— a strongly recommended suggestion, should ticket sales allow as it is physically impossible to absorb everything on offer with just one explorative viewing— you will have a different experience than you did the first time and it will differ from the experience others around you are having. And the second reason is that while there is a story unfolding, it’s non-linear in the sense that it would take days to try and plot out everything that’s happening in the Katalepsis experience, and it would just be easier to strongly recommend the brilliance be seen, heard, and experienced by you.
A creative team of 20 individuals have brought their minds together to fabricate a world set in the future, with isolation, the end of humanity as we know it, and chimerical elements of fantasy into a living, breathing, explorable reality. The program notes indicate that this concept for Katalepsis was actually in development BEFORE the Covid-19 Pandemic, which is fascinating in and of itself when you consider it. The explorative performance takes place in the basement of Baltimore’s recently renovated Peale Center, a venue which Submersive Productions has used before. One might think restricting an explorative universe to just a basement might be constricting or lackluster. One would be wrong if they thought that.
Submersive Productions has overrun the basement of the Peale Center, and while in reality it’s about six rooms? Seven rooms? Even I’m not sure— because of the overall nature of the construct that is Katalepsis, it seems both infinitely bigger and smaller at the same time. I caution to say disorienting because I don’t want anyone walking away with the notion that you’ll be confused or physically dizzy with the layout, but it’s unbalancing in the sense that you’re not quite sure where you are at any one time. Core Creators Mika Nakano, Trustina Sabah, Susan Stroupe, and Glenn Ricci have developed this underground ‘world’, for lack of better wording on my part. And the dominating factor is fungus. The textured walls and ceilings, combined with all sorts of wild audio and impressive lighting (lighting credited to creator Helen Garcia-Alton) makes for an extraterrestrial feel, even though the experience is theoretically earth set unfathomable leagues in the future.
At any one time during your experience with Katalepsis there are three ‘Creators’ in performance. You may, hopefully, experience all three of them. I spent a large amount of time with one, a small amount of time with another, and only caught a glimpse of the third in what could be considered a climax-style happening near the end of the exploration I attended. This may not be your same path. And that’s part of the wonder and the beauty of this particular experience. No two explorations will be the same. For my particular exploration, I spent the majority of my time with the serenely subdued Phoenix (Megan Livingston), a portion of my excursion with the effervescent and physically, visually, and audibly loud Strata (Lisi Stoessel), and only caught glimpses of Madame (Trustina Sabah).
Megan Livingston, in the role of Phoenix, has a penchant for music. I found her existence to be fascinating because she is focused solely on sounds, songs, the way sounds, songs, and music impact her life as she lives it in this futuristic world. And there was a beautiful slowness to experiencing time with her, so much so, that I personally didn’t realize how much time I’d spent with her. There is a brightness to the character of Phoenix in the way a slow-morning sunrise greets each day. The audio-technology featured in her— again for lack of better word— chamber was extraordinary. And while personally I exist on a speed-of-light-frenetic-frequency, I found spending so much time with Livingston as Phoenix to be wildly refreshing. And she has a glorious singing voice.
Lisi Stoessel, as Strata, operates at my exact speed of existence— frenetic, constant, hyper. And she’s all about visualization. Set up in some sort of fashion cubby, you could lose yourself for the entirety of the exploratory performance just taking in what’s in her ‘chamber.’ As mentioned, I only get to spend a small amount of time with Stoessel’s Strata (my own accidental choosing) but it was invigorating. With much more of a visual focus— think costumes, Costumes, COSTUMES!— the immersive component was a colorful array of fantastical things that seemed far less ascetic by comparison to the almost monastic existence over in Phoenix’ chamber. No idea what the experience with Madame (Trustina Sabah) was like as I never made it to her chamber. And the Timekeeper (Hannah Fenster) was not in rotation for the exploratory-performance that I attended.
In addition to the “three creators at any one experience” factor, there are also two roving “Benefactors” (played in rotation by Joshua Hne, Ursula Marcum, Jess Rassp; at my experience it was Joshuan Hne & Jess Rasp…though you wouldn’t know that as their costumes are all-consuming.) These ‘Benefactors’ are the fortuitous brilliance of costume creator Deana Brill. Matching the wall and ceiling textures to a degree, the ‘Benefactors’ appear as larger-than-life, living-breathing, anthropomorphic fungi. Sort of. It defies description in a most marvelous, wonderous, and truly odd sense; I don’t even want to attempt to put it into words (I’m just going to fail— you have to see these creatures for yourself) but they appear throughout, playing an integral part of the experience.
One of the brilliant inclusionary factors of Katalepsis is the option, as an attendee, to engage or merely observe. The creative team equips you with a glowing light necklace at the introduction (before you descend into the experience) and informs you that if you wish to merely observe and not be interacted with, leave your light off. If you wish to have the entities of Katalepsis engage with you, turn your light on.
There’s also a ‘DJ’ at each exploration, either DJ Conrad Formica (Francisco Benavides) or DJ Siren (Bao Nguyen) who can be seen and heard, either on radios, air waves, in person, all throughout— it’s another mysterious component of the overall experience. (My performance featured DJ Conrad Formica, but I only caught glimpses of the DJ, heard snippets, and then saw the DJ near the conclusion of the experience.)
The possibilities of this experience are seemingly endless. Oh, and as the theater-experiencer, you’re a past-life-hologram that undergoes a ‘digitization process’ of sorts at the very beginning of the experience so that you can safely be ‘among them’ as it were. You’re led down the stairs (or by elevator if you so choose) to a— I’m going to call it a containment-preparatory-antechamber because that feels appropriate— wherein you’re given an ‘instructional momentary video-audio introduction to the process. Then through the miracle of ‘technology’ (more of Helen Garcia-Alton’s lighting work, as well as technical director Tyler Brust and production manager Tessara Morgan’s handiwork) you ‘undergo a transformation’ preparing you to safely enter the Katalepsis experience.
One can take away so many different things from the Katalepsis experience. Personally, it was a sense of re-connecting, which is ironic, considering how the ‘Creators’ have no true chance for connection among one another given the circumstances in which they exist. (The Digiphase virus, which wiped out humanity, makes it impossible for them to interact with one another person to person, restricting the Creators mainly to their chambers, allowing them ‘out’ only if they are bubble-suited to the teeth for protection.) There’s a cyclical component to the experience as well; everyone is corralled together for the ‘conclusion’ and it has a shocking and lasting impact, though what that means to you, the theater-experiencer, will differ from experience to experience.
It’s a thought-provoking, emotionally-charged, wildly fabulous, utterly unique theatrical exploration with performance and art-style installations all across the basement enclosure. Words don’t do it justice. This type of work rarely can be summarized or praised in its entirety; Katalepsis is the epitome of “must be seen to be believed, appreciated, enjoyed, discovered.”
Tickets are selling out at an alarming rate, though given the impressive nature of the experience this should not come as a surprise. Do not delay in booking your tickets to this otherworldly experience. It’s both similar to and different from Submersive Productions’ past experiences. It’s wholly new, strangely familiar, wildly intriguing, and unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before. Don’t miss your chance to explore Katalepsis this spring before this futuristic happenstance disappears into the ether from which it came.
Exploratory Performance Duration: Approximately 100 minutes
Katalepsis, a Submersive Productions experience, runs through April 30, 2023 at The Peale Center— 225 Holliday Street in Baltimore City, MD. Tickets must be booked in advance; many dates are already sold out. Tickets can be purchased here.
