Lucid is performance artist Chris Kirk‘s first foray into the world of theatre, and it is an alienating, contradictory and personal piece of theatre incorporating poetry and dance with little dramatic or ideological substance for the viewer.

Kirk initially advertised Lucid as a play which would follow two men and two women in and out of their dreams while they are literally naked on stage. So it is a little confusing when Kirk emerges alone in smart casual attire. He begins by admitting that he failed to pull together a constructed art piece, but that he wants to freely express his emotions without any limits. He spends the next hour jumping unpredictably between various topics such as spirit animals, the significance of deities and the unappreciated beauty of the human body.

Kirk’s own identity and views about life and culture often negate each other. For example, he disregards modern culture, the corruptions of capitalism and those who follow it blindly, but also desires acceptance and praise from the art world. He constantly reminds the audience that he knows he is a hypocrite, but this only serves to widen the divide between him and his audience that has been created by  his pretentiousness, thus making every word essentially meaningless.

This is most evident when he invites willing audience members to be naked with him on stage. This would be more welcoming if his writing reflected acceptance of the audience as human beings, rather than passive parts of Western culture. It becomes a disconnected exhibition where the other bodies on stage are just props or the vehicle for his expression and those left in the audience are dehumanised.

Kirk does discuss some relevant points about the vulgarity of language and how it has degraded the body, sex and art. However, any impact this has is dulled by his self-degradation via language: “I am not another hetero slave, I’m a fucking faggot shaman, you fools.” While some of his idioms are inspired, ultimately the presentation of these ideas invalidates most of his linguistic skills. There is never any real emotion which bleeds through the meticulously scripted and structured words.

Overall, the show could potentially appeal to a select few who appreciate challenging theatre, but its scope is too narrow to captivate many. Lucid is a grating and potentially offensive “play” which breathes hostility from Kirk and encourages defensiveness from his audience.

Lucid is on at the Mechanics Institute, 270 Sydney Road from 22-27 September at 11pm. For more information or to book tickets, please visit the Melbourne Fringe website or call the ticketing team on 9660 9666.