The Penelopiad

For The Penelopiad, I approached the scenic design as a visual bridge between myth and modernity—honoring the ancient source material while situating its themes firmly within a contemporary context. Working from Margaret Atwood’s powerful retelling, I sought to create a space where Penelope’s voice, so often overshadowed in classical myth, could take center stage in a world both timeless and immediate.

The set draws heavily from the silhouettes of ancient Greek architecture—columns, steps, and fractured structures that evoke temples long abandoned. But these classical forms are rendered in raw concrete and distressed steel, materials chosen for their modern industrial weight and emotional resonance. This material juxtaposition underscores the harshness of Penelope’s world while reminding the audience that the struggles she and her maids endure are not relics of the past—they echo across centuries.

A stark color palette, dominated by slate gray, rust, and ash tones, creates an atmosphere of emotional gravity. Elevated platforms and fragmented steps allow for dynamic movement while reinforcing a sense of imbalance and eroded power. Above it all, a netted scrim, suggestive of weaving or entrapment, hangs in fragmented layers—mirroring Penelope’s own loom and the invisible systems that bind the women of the story.

The design is intentionally spare, forcing focus onto the performers and their collective storytelling. As the maids become chorus, witness, and memory, the space transforms into a haunting courtroom, a distant island, and a domestic prison—all without changing a single flat. This minimalism gives the text and performances room to breathe while quietly reinforcing the violence, erasure, and strength at the heart of the piece.

Ultimately, the set serves as both a ruin and a reckoning—a space where forgotten voices demand to be heard, and where ancient myths are stripped bare under modern light.