MOTHER


Presented by the New York City Fringe Festival

Created and performed by: Lindsay M. Shields, Graciella Ye’Tsunami, Mars Berger, David Quang Pham, and Annam

Presented by: Acting Political


What does it mean to be a mother—and who gets to define that word?

MOTHER. resists a singular answer. Told by five queer artists, it unfolds as a fragmented, embodied exploration of motherhood—honest and reflective, asking the audience not just to observe, but to feel. These are necessary voices engaging a universal subject, expanding what motherhood can mean and who gets to define it.

Structured as a series of performances, the work functions less as a traditional narrative and more as a collage of experiences. Voiceover, direct address, and movement intertwine, blurring the boundary between performer and subject.

Across these vignettes, motherhood is not a fixed identity, but something fluid, fractured, and deeply personal. This idea emerges through a series of distinct images and performances: one inhabits the space of becoming a mother for oneself, suggesting care can turn inward; another unfolds as a jungle-like sequence in which a performer embodies a lion, raising the question of what distinguishes a mother from a monster; and another uses hourglasses to explore time, care, and shifting identity.

Not all segments land with the same clarity or impact. The work’s shifting structure can feel uneven, and its reliance on recorded text occasionally distances performers from the immediacy of their own stories. I found myself wanting more moments where voice and body aligned in real time.

The thematic focus also feels slightly diffuse. While the work explores identity, care, and selfhood with intention, its connection to motherhood is not always fully grounded—particularly as the performers do not bring lived maternal perspectives directly into the piece. I found myself more invested in its exploration of womanhood and the question of whether to become a mother—or one’s relationship to their own mother—than in motherhood itself. An actual mother’s perspective might have deepened the work, and felt, to some extent, expected in a piece titled MOTHER.

A similar feeling emerges in the use of the pre-show prompt cards. Questions such as “Can gender be separated from motherhood?” and “What’s a favorite saying of your mother?” offer a compelling entry point, but their reappearance is brief and without deeper engagement, limiting their impact.

The work is strongest when it leans into embodied movement. Mars Berger, a beautiful mover, grounds the piece with a clear physical presence, while the final performers bring clarity and emotional resonance that allow the work to land most fully.

One of the most striking sequences features Annam Joy entering in Bharatanatyam-inspired attire—sari, ghungroo, jasmine garlands, and a bindi—only to subvert those expectations entirely. As projections of her younger self give way to images of global violence, her performance fractures into something visceral: she shakes, convulses, releases sound, tears streaming in dark rivers of kajal. It is a bold and memorable moment—an embodiment of this current young generation grappling with what it means to bring a child into an unstable world, while both drawing from and challenging tradition.

The final performer, Graciella Ye’Tsunami, brings the piece to a grounded and emotionally resonant close. Through wonderfully intentional movement and a voiceover reflecting on adoption, identity, and the ocean—touching on her experience growing up as a Black adoptee in a white family—she radiates a sense of the sacred, her presence deeply spiritual, as if she is not just moving through the space but becoming it, becoming the ocean itself. Inviting the audience to check in with their inner child as a shared responsibility, her words are deeply moving. As her baby photo is projected, she sings, “I will never let you go, even as I change,” a moment that brought me to tears. She leaves us with a simple but lasting challenge: “Dare to meet yourself in the mirror and like what you see.” I found myself wishing we had spent more time in her world, deeply affected by her words and presence.

Ultimately, MOTHER. is a work of strong ideas and meaningful ambition. Its commitment to exploring complex, deeply human questions is evident.

Review by Penelope Deen.

Published by Theatre Beyond Broadway on April 21, 2026. All rights reserved.

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