Model by: James V. Ogden
A small white figure stands on a vast gridded floor. Delicate branches invade in the space above. Two large decaying metal discs hang suspended from wire.
On Apocalypses: Yggdrasil at the End of the World
by Raven Monroe
There is still the sun. There was a time when I believed that if I could still see the sun, I was alright. You told me that, once. That the sun represents energy. Represents the life in all things—and that if I could still see the sun then life persists. I could never figure out if you just had a ridiculous amount of optimism or if you were just… cruel. Unable to see anyone around you, unable to feel what we feel because you would forever remain unaffected by it. The sun kissed you so. It was like you were made for it, the way it glistened against your skin as if you were literally crusted with flecks of gold. You sparkled. When I looked for the sun, I was only blinded. I still look for it. Desperately. It’s still… there, a white hot glow that feels more oppressive than generous.
Am I the one to wait for the end of the world; for the sun to swallow all things into its heat? You said you’d be here with me. At the end of it. You told me it would be you and me, sitting and staring into the sun, and we’d bask in it. That it would glow so warm…
Do you remember Ragnarök? Didn’t you tell me, once? I remember your stories, so many stories- but I can’t remember how it ends. I- I know that it ends in the creation of a new world. An apocalypse is as much a beginning as it is an ending. But I don’t know what that means. What is my new world? What happens to me, after everything? Do I just sit here, like you said we would, and stare into the sun until my new world begins? Even without you here?
When I look at it, I can’t see for a moment, and then I see those shapes, you know? Colors. Pinkish and purple splotches—I like that part. How it fades into blue just before my vision returns to normal. I like to pretend it doesn’t mean I’m damaging my retinas. I don’t know how you always loved the sun. How it always loved you. I still see it. I still see it…
Audio Recording
Monologue Performed by: Nathan Johnson
Directed by: Jennifer Pierce
Raven Monroe
Raven Monroe is a playwright, actor, and singer with a BA in Theatre from UNC Charlotte and an MFA in Dramatic Writing from NYU. Born in Charlotte, NC, she has a specific interest in creating work that highlights the area, as well as work that centers Black women and girls.
Her play Love & Justice and Other Fairy Tales is a play based in the Piedmont of North Carolina and set around World War I.
It’s a Romeo & Juliet style Southern tragedy that parallels the war abroad with the burgeoning war for racial equality at home. The first play in a three-play cycle that will follow one Southern Black family through the decades, it centers around young Ethel Parsons and her ill-advised romance with the son of a wealthy white family that employs her grandmother.
James V. Ogden
James V. Ogden is a scenic designer and theatre production educator. He received his MFA in Theatrical Design from The University of Texas at Austin. He is currently Technical Director and Lecturer at Mercer University, and previously Assistant Professor of Theatrical Design and Production at Wesleyan College in Macon, GA, and Visiting Professor of Design and Production Manager for The University of Illinois Chicago's Department of Theatre and Music. James has designed for theatres in Chicago, IL, Atlanta, GA, Greenville, SC, Richmond, VA, and Austin, TX. James has also given presentations at USITT on experimentation in scenic design and laser cutting. A portfolio of his work can be found at www.jamesvogden.com.
Plays
Pityriasis Rosea
Don’t Look Down
Promise
Labyrinth
Psalm 104
On Apocalypses
The Heath