Willy Loman

In this contemporary adaptation of Death of a Salesman, I was interested in the cultural and socio-economic pressures that shape a person’s sense of worth — particularly within rapidly shifting technological and capitalist systems. Our Willy Loman was a man caught between eras: emotionally anchored in nostalgia yet forced to navigate an environment that evolved too fast for him to follow. His struggles with memory, dementia, and employment instability revealed how identity becomes fragile when the world refuses to slow down.

I designed the performance space as an empty, elastic environment where meaning is produced not by objects themselves but by how bodies interact with them. A single oversized briefcase served as the primary scenographic tool — transforming into a car, a dining table, a bench, a repository of goods, and ultimately a grave. Each transformation emerged through the performers’ embodied negotiation with the object, reinforcing how social identity is continuously rebuilt and re-imagined under economic pressure.

The production process embraced collective authorship. Text, blocking, and scenography evolved through improvisation, with performers, choreographer, stage management, and myself shifting roles and contributing to the visual logic of the world. This collaborative structure mirrored Willy’s disorienting reality: a life constructed by forces outside his control, yet held together by his persistent, hopeful attempts to make sense of the chaos around him.