In the soft half-light of the theatre, a piano sits waiting. A woman steps forward. What unfolds over the next 70 minutes is not just a play, but a deeply human reckoning with loss, memory, and the quiet ways our parents shape who we become.

Running at Omnibus Theatre from 24–28 February, The Sound of Absence is an intimate piece of storytelling that lives somewhere between concert and confessional. Written and performed by Yanina Hope, and directed by Ivanka Polchenko, the production blends live piano music with raw, reflective theatre to explore what happens when a relationship ends before its questions are answered.

The show is inspired by Hope’s own experience of losing her father. In the play, her character Lenore receives a late-night phone call: her father is in intensive care, hundreds of miles away. She rushes to be with him and arrives too late. What follows is goes beyond linear story of grief to tell something messier and more recognisable: anger, regret, tenderness, and the ache of conversations that never happened.

Rather than offering neat resolutions, The Sound of Absence lingers in the in-between spaces — between what we knew of our parents and what we never asked, between who they were and who we are becoming. The live piano score, performed on stage by Vladyslav Kuznetsov, becomes an emotional guide, carrying the audience through memory, silence and release.

This is the kind of theatre that feels especially timely. In a culture that often rushes us through grief, The Sound of Absence slows things down. It asks what it means to sit with loss long after the condolences have stopped, and how death can sometimes unlock unexpected personal change.

Hope has spoken about the play emerging from a sense of helplessness a year after her father’s death, and that honesty permeates the work. As the story unfolds, it opens outward, touching on father figures, inherited choices, and the universal question of how well we really know the people who raised us. Audience members have described seeing their own family relationships reflected back at them — proof that while the story is personal, its emotional reach is wide.

Part of the show’s power lies in its interdisciplinary approach. Polchenko’s direction is spare and deliberate, leaving room for music, movement and silence to do as much work as the text. Kuznetsov’s score, by turns fragile and forceful, doesn’t accompany the story so much as converse with it.And the result is a piece that feels quietly ambitious: theatre as lived experience, music as emotional memory, and performance as a form of self-inquiry.

If you’re drawn to thoughtful, intimate theatre, the kind that stays with you long after the lights come up — this is one to catch. It’s not just a story about grief, but about what can grow in its wake: understanding, courage, and the possibility of a more honest relationship with ourselves.

The Sound of Absence runs from 24th to 28th February 2026 at Omnibus Theatre, London, with evening performances at 7.30pm and a Saturday matinee at 2.30pm. Tickets available here