Absurd, unexpected, and daring, HOME is a poignant reminder of the power of theatre to garner hope, and to create something absolutely magical from nothing.

When you’ve watched enough shows, it becomes far too easy to become jaded and critical, forgetting the appeal of theatre that charmed us into it in the first place. But every so often, a production comes along that makes you feel like a first-time theatregoer all over again, immersing you completely and totally into its world that you can’t help falling in love with. That show happens to be Geoff Sobelle’s HOME, which plays as part of the 2025 Singapore International Festival of Arts (SIFA) at Victoria Theatre.

Directed by Lee Sunday Evans, HOME is nothing short of a theatrical spectacle. It defies easy categorisation, with no specific plot to speak of, and a multitude of theatrical techniques that present themselves across the two hour experience. It begins subtly, as creator Geoff Sobelle himself emerges from the audience, running up to the empty stage. It’s cave-like, the lighting grid down low to make the stage seem smaller. All Geoff has is a three-panel wooden frame, which he lays down and begins to work on in earnest, stapling a translucent sheet along its edges. He props it up, and it forms some kind of makeshift screen, reminiscent of protection put up when a house is undergoing painting or other renovation work.

It sounds innocuous, and that is precisely why the illusion and theatre magic that follows hits all the more harder. When the frame is shifted, the audience lets go a gasp of surprise, with the appearance of an entire bed behind it. Another movement, and a door and bedside lamp appear too. When Geoff strips down and lays in bed, he pulls the covers over him, and a moment later, a young bespectacled girl appears instead. It speaks of a certain level of technical mastery to tour such a show, considering that every theatre is set-up slightly differently, and yet, the team maintains such smooth transitions, so quickly adapting to each new space and venue to achieve the same quality of work.

These theatrical tricks soon become characteristic of the production, where that initial surprise is followed by a flurry of other blink and you’ll miss it moments, from other apparitions out of thin air, to costume quick-changes and surprise reveals. But what was one of the most impressive by far was the appearance of a group of construction workers in blue jumpsuits and hard hats who quickly dismantle the small set, before building up and construct an entirely new, two storey set before our eyes, punctuated by a grand unveiling and applause from the audience. Sobelle and his team understand that there is magic even in the most mundane of things, where in theatre, the very act of constructing a set feels akin to a miracle, where an entire house can suddenly exist within an enclosed space in a matter of minutes, a solid one that support the weight and movements of multiple actors traipsing up and down.

These actors, namely Steve Cuiffo, Sophie Bortolussi, Joy-Marie Thompson, Kathryn Grody, and Josephine Lazarus, play individual characters throughout the performance, but their relationship is never made clear. Are they all members of the same family, hustling and bustling about as they go about their day? Are they different groups of occupants who have lived in this house at different times in history? What the truth is doesn’t really matter, when we’re so entertained and amused by David Neumann’s almost clockwork-like choreography, completely mesmerised by how all of them fit into a single bathroom, whisking in and out of the shower, washing their face at the sink and taking turns on the toilet. A nod to Sobelle’s own mastery over physical theatre, these over-the-top movements are all we need to make meaning in a wordless performance, each step, turn and action an exuberant force and infectious energy that seeps into the audience too.

HOME then, is an inquiry into what makes a house a home. In part, it is the oft-overlooked idea of simply being comfortable, to go about one’s routines as if no one is watching, whether casual nudity or struggling with appliances gone wrong. But beyond comfort and familiarity, it is also shaped by the experiences we have within such a space, and very quickly, in sharing these experiences with the characters onstage, just like any theatrical production with a narrative, these brief but effective scenes immediately craft an emotional connection with the audience, whether it’s dealing with a pet, or rushing to catch a flight, or a tragedy that rocks the entire household, grief filling the space as they weep silently into their hands, or stare despondently into space.

The beauty of such an absurd piece is the ability for audience members to draw any number of interpretations from all these familiar actions made strange, putting a magnifying glass to the daily routine. Looking at the the contrast between Kathryn Gordon’s more aged, slow-moving routine with how everyone else speeding through to work, to workout and so on, we think about how so much of our lives are spent rushing, or even when a plunger inexplicably keeps reappearing on the stairs, we wonder how much time goes into tackling mundane tasks. Inherent in all these are also more subtle ideas of migration and gentrification, loss and movement, that one could easily draw from it. You inevitably feel for these characters, want to know their story, and are left forlorn, aching to find out what led them here, and to hear them out, even if you know they will never speak.

Time flows in unusual ways in HOME, and all of this contributes to the almost hypnotic absurdity and surreal, dream-like quality of the production, where we are poised to expect the unexpected, and allow our reality and logic to be led and determined by the creators. There is a careful balance between just enough naturalism to believe this world, mostly from Christopher Kuhl’s lighting that flashes lightning through the windows, or the orange glow of dawn, and the completely unexpected, such as Elvis Perkins’ sudden appearances, looking completely out of place in his all-white get-up and instruments ranging from an autoharp to a ukulele, breaking the diegesis of the world to sing an original folk song that lulls us straight to another world. We are immersed, we are amused, we are amazed. It is a world we want to keep exploring, a realm we could find ourselves getting completely lost in for hours on end, where every corner hides a new surprise.

But just when you think you know this world however, HOME brings another layer to its already ambitious staging. Beyond the stage tech, beyond the illusions, the hardest thing for any theatre production to do is to integrate audience members naturally into the performance. And HOME does it in such an elegant way that you can’t help but marvel at the way it starts with just one brave audience member led onstage, pressing an invisible doorbell before being let in. A few more interactions, and it’s not long before more follow suit, joining in a wild dinner party full of wine, as they celebrate life event after life event – a birthday, a birth, a graduation, a wedding. At some point, a conga line appears, moving along to a rendition of Rasa Sayang by local musicians Jacept Brass, and the entire theatre feels like it’s clapping along.

There is unbridled joy that makes the usually stoic and hesitant Singaporean audience want to get up and experience that for themselves voluntarily. Costume designer Karen Young, wardrobe supervisor Stephen Smith and their dressers have their work cut out for them; many of the 40-odd audience participants are designated costumes of their own, from shark onesies, to coats and jackets, and it takes a village to ensure that all of them are comfortable and dressed the moment they come onstage. This is the finest showcase of organised chaos, where so much is going on at one time, yet even with all that, you never feel like you’re missing out on anything, where every new observation feels like a triumph when you shift your gaze.

Towards its end, HOME finally slows down, with many of the participants leaving the stage and returning to their seats. We experience a funeral, and the atmosphere becomes reflective; an audience member is interviewed, sharing what his own home in Bedok is like, while another reads a prepared script of another home, far from here. We sit and listen to this soundscape of their voices, alongside Brandon Wolcott’s sounds, and we relax, we think of our own dwellings, and all that has been contained in them and makes them home.

HOME ends on a sombre note, where the two storey building we’ve spent the performance turning into a place we feel something for is boarded up, everything within it taken out and put into cardboard boxes. There are suggestions that it was destroyed in a fire, or simply slated for demolition. The three-panel wooden frame returns, and covers up the set again, as the actors leave the house behind, no longer home. We are left with a curious sense of loss, watching these once strangers depart from the stage, like the end of a party, like this temporary connection could have been something so much more, a fleeting sense of community that in all our loneliness of urban living, realise we so sorely lack.

Yet, amidst the gloom, HOME seems to suggest hope. Through the act of invitation and participation, HOME shows us how easy it is to become endeared to a space, to feel that newfound sense of community amongst complete strangers, if only we create the right circumstances for it. And in proving the success of such an experiment, night after night, HOME emerges as a production that through the fundamentals of theatre itself, in suspending our disbelief and working a little stage magic, we know that we can find love and connection in the most unexpected of places, no matter how lost we may feel, or who takes things away from us. An absolute triumph of a production that pushes theatremaking to new limits, proving that any place can be a home, if you allow it to be.

Photo credit: Moonrise Studio, courtesy of Arts House Limited

HOME played from 22nd to 25th May 2025 at Victoria Theatre.

The 2025 Singapore International Festival of Arts runs from 16th May to 1st June 2025. Tickets and more available here

Production Credits:

Geoff Sobelle | Creator/Performer Lee Sunday Evans | Director Steven Dufala | Scenic Design Christopher Kuhl | Lighting Design Paul Hudson | Lighting Associate Brandon Wolcott | Sound Design Tyler Kieffer | Sound Associate Karen Young | Costume Design Steve Cuiffo | Illusion Design & Performer Stephanie Sobelle | Dramaturg David Neumann | Choreography Victoria Ross | Props Design Jecca Barry | Creative Producer Jennifer Kidwell | Co-Creator Ching Valdes-Aran | Co-Creator Justin Rose | Co-Creator Sophie Bortolussi | Co-Creator & Performer Elvis Perkins | Co-Creator & Performer Lisa McGinn | Stage Manager Kelsey Vivian | Assistant Stage Manager Chris Swetcky | Technical Director / Production Manager Stephen Smith | Wardrobe Supervisor Julian Crouch | Creative Consultant Joy-Marie Thompson | Performer Kathryn Grody | Performer Josephine Lazarus | Performer Jacept Brass | Musicians Original Songs by Elvis Perkins Additional Vocals by The Crossing