Amplifying the Voices of the Natural World Through Theatre

In 2019, I sat hopelessly in my living room in Philadelphia watching Australia, my homeland, burn. Images of animals on fire, hellish red skies, and flames engulfing native trees filled my computer screen. The precious and awe-inspiring Australian landscapes and animals were turning to ash in front of my eyes, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Thirty-three people died in the fires, over three thousand buildings were destroyed, and approximately 65,000 people were displaced. These numbers are tragic. However, the statistic that made me weep was the three billion animals—mammals, birds, reptiles—that were displaced or killed. This does not account for the tens of millions of hectares of forests and flora that also burned, which caused significant damage to ecosystems and left many species struggling to recover. I couldn’t help but wonder what stories, histories, and communities disappeared along with them.

Overcome with immense grief, I decided to create a one-woman show as a call to action, urging people to protect the natural world—our shared home—so that it can endure for future generations, both human and non-human.

Allowing nature to guide and inform the content and structure of our work was one of the most transformative experiences of our creative journey.

As I was pondering what story to tell and how to tell it, I felt a strong desire to decenter humans from the narrative. I longed to make visible the natural world that exists alongside us with the hope that it would be felt by audiences. Cultural ecologist David Abram’s words from his book The Spell of the Sensuous: Perception and Language in a More-Than-Human World came to mind: “Magic…is existing in a world made up of multiple intelligences…the swallow swooping overhead to the fly on a blade of grass, and indeed the blade of grass itself—is an experiencing form, an entity with its own predilections and sensations.” I wondered what animals, rocks, rivers, and trees would say about this human-made crisis that is threatening their existence.

I invited Trey Lyford to join the project as co-creator and director, and together we embarked on a two-and-a-half-year journey to embody nature and translate its stories onto the stage in my award-winning solo show, KOAL. I’m excited to share some of the discoveries we made along the way with fellow theatremakers who are passionate about amplifying the voices of the natural world through theatre.

Collaborate with Nature

To make nature a living, active participant in the narrative, it’s essential to begin at the source and engage directly with the more-than-human world. Fresh Ground Pepper’s Eco Week at Little Pond in Nazareth, Pennsylvania, provided the perfect setting for this. This weeklong residency brings together a diverse group of eco-conscious artists to collaborate and create with nature. As creators, we often have the urge to dive straight into the rehearsal room and produce as much material as quickly as we can, but nature does not rush. During our time at Little Pond, Trey and I had to sit with nature’s rhythms, and learn how to slow down and listen. The native trees, shrubs, seeds, grasses, and even the ash from the campfire became active ensemble members, each offering their unique smells, textures, personalities, and energies to our creations. Allowing nature to guide and inform the content and structure of our work was one of the most transformative experiences of our creative journey in making KOAL, resulting in a more authentic representation of nature on stage.

Create Emotional Connections

In our overstimulated world, we, as a society, are increasingly unmoved by pressing global issues. As Professor Anne McClintock of Princeton University notes, “our senses are not tuned to the enormity of climate change.” The challenge lies in finding the right story—one that resonates emotionally with the audience, which is key to shifting their thinking and inspiring action. Trey and I found guidance in the insights of environmental thinkers, activists, and storytellers like Amitav Ghosh, Robin Wall Kimmerer, Richard Powers, and Peter Wohlleben. Their wisdom helped us understand the importance of forging emotional connections between people and nature. As the legendary conservationist Steve Irwin said, “If I can’t get animals into people’s hearts, there will be no conservation.”

The footage of a horrifically burned koala screaming in agony as it fled the fires through scorched trees is what pierced my heart. People flock from all parts of the world to glimpse and, if lucky enough, hold one of these endangered, tree-dwelling marsupials. It seemed fitting that this symbol of Australia should be the protagonist of KOAL. So the concept for the core storyline of the show was born: a baby koala, rescued from the wildfires and recovering at a wildlife sanctuary, escapes and sets off on a perilous journey to return to its home, a 900-year-old tree, before it turns to ash.

Since we don’t speak the same language as the more-than-human world, it’s challenging to fully grasp their experience of the climate crisis and thus translate it to the stage. However, as David Abram points out, “we do know how it feels to sip from a fresh pool of water or to bask and stretch in the sun.” This awareness, along with deep research and observation, serve as valuable tools in understanding non-human characters in our work. For KOAL, Trey and I watched hours of footage, closely analyzing koalas’ movements and vocalizations and observing them in their natural habitat, in wildlife sanctuaries, and during the harrowing moments of the bushfires. I was fortunate to visit Lone Pine Koala Sanctuary—the world’s first and largest sanctuary dedicated to protecting, respecting, and conserving native wildlife. My sister and I spent an entire day with wildlife experts, learning about koala habits and conservation efforts, while observing koalas of all shapes, sizes, and ages. I even had the privilege of holding one, which was surprisingly heavy and clung to me as if I was its mother!

Physical Exploration and Transformation

The creative process starts to get juicy in the rehearsal room, where you get the chance to experiment with translating your research into your body. Trey and I drew from our collective experience in creating and performing devised physical theatre with artists like the Civilians, rainpan 43, Zen Zen Zo Physical Theatre, Philippe Gaulier, and Pig Iron Theatre Company, to explore and shape the theatrical language of the show. Physical theatre has the remarkable ability to harness the expressive power of the body, transforming complex themes—and, in the case of climate change, overwhelming statistics—into visually captivating, visceral, and emotionally resonant storytelling on stage.

A great technique for physically embodying nature, like the koala in KOAL, is Jacques Lecoq’s animal exercise. This exercise expands a performer’s range of physical expression by focusing on the details of an animal’s movement, posture, breath, physical traits, and how it interacts with its environment, helping them find that specificity in their own body.

Clowning demands a profound level of presence and sincerity, requiring you to be completely open and attuned to yourself, your audience, and your surroundings, much like a wild creature in its natural state.

Clowning and the red nose—or, in our case, a black nose for our koala explorations—are effective tools for accessing the raw presence, curiosity, and vulnerability of an animal. Clowning demands a profound level of presence and sincerity, requiring you to be completely open and attuned to yourself, your audience, and your surroundings, much like a wild creature in its natural state.

If you’re looking to add even more detail to your physical portrayal of an animal, I highly recommend the masks of Philadelphia’s Barbaric Yawp Workshop. We swapped the black clown nose for Barbaric Yawp’s custom-made koala nose (and ears!), which added a new dimension to the physicality and essence of the character, completing the transformation of me as the performer into the animal.

The Role of Human Characters

Humans may find their way into your show, just as they did in KOAL. Don’t worry! Human characters can offer diverse ways of perceiving, engaging, and communicating with nature, helping to foster empathy, understanding, and interconnectedness between the audience and the more-than-human world.

In KOAL, Trey and I created a character named Curtis, a knowledgeable and enthusiastic wildlife guardian at the Australian Wildlife Relief Sanctuary. Inspired by the writings of David Abram, whose poetic language encourages readers to experience nature as a living, sensuous, and intelligent entity—rather than just a passive backdrop to human life—Curtis was designed to inspire our audience to adopt this same perspective. Completely enamored with the natural world, Curtis serves as a playful vehicle for highlighting its remarkable qualities and sharing fascinating environmental facts: the koalas’ ability to digest poisonous eucalyptus leaves, the intricate formations of rocks, the different shapes of animal poop, and the phenomenon of fires creating their own thunder and lightning.

We also incorporated the story of my late grandmother, Marcella Lee (née Berolah) in KOAL through the character of a young girl called Minah. My grandmother was a Meriam-Samsep woman from the Torres Strait, born on Waiben (Thursday Island) at the northeastern tip of Australia. Her life and culture were deeply rooted in Country, but during World War II, she was forcibly removed from her home and relocated to Cherbourg Aboriginal Settlement on mainland Australia, a traumatic act aimed at stripping her of her Indigenous identity and roots.

When we first meet Minah, she shares an intimate bond with the island’s wilderness, in particular her birth tree—a ceremonial tree that, in Indigenous Australian culture, serves as a living and spiritual connection between a child and the land. It is a friendship that transcends words. This bond is shattered when Minah is forcibly relocated to an internment camp in the heart of the unforgiving desert, thousands of miles from her home. By connecting the koala’s experience of climate change to my own family’s history—my grandmother’s painful displacement and disconnection from the natural world—we created a parallel between the loss of home for humans and non-humans alike, with the hope that audiences relate to these injustices and ensure they are never repeated.

The Power of Comedy

You may be thinking—a show about the consequences of climate change can easily become extremely bleak. Have you considered tapping into the power of comedy? Julie Felise Dubiner, the dramaturg of Between Two Knees by Native American sketch comedy group the 1491s, tells the story of a study where one group of people watched a tragic movie about injustice and another group saw a movie about the same injustice but as a comedy. The first group felt sad and defeated, while the latter group felt energized to do something to change the situation—and they did! KOAL is infused with comedic moments—it’s billed as a clown show—ranging from Curtis’s wild and goofy personality to Stevo the Coal Miner’s playful banter with the audience. Comedy gave us a fun and engaging way to connect with viewers, provide relief from confronting heavy themes, and inspire action through humor. Comedy, after all, is an act of defiance and empowerment. As Dubiner writes “It declares for those who have survived…a state of being alive, of living-ness. It declares, ‘We are still here.’”

Set Design

The scenic design of your show is a literal means of bringing nature to life on stage and can transform your performance space into the living, breathing natural world. It’s also an opportunity to consider sustainability in your production design.

In KOAL, it was natural that a tree should be the central scenic image. During our research period we learned that koalas have a strong preference for specific trees, which are known as their “home trees.” These trees are vital to a koala’s survival and social structure as they provide food, shelter, and a sense of security. Koalas develop a strong connection with their primary tree and visit it regularly. A tree also played a pivotal role in Minah’s story, and photographs documenting the Australian fires often depicted the mangled, burned bodies of trees, their charred remains a disturbing reminder of the consequences of climate change.

With the help of set designer Payton Smith, Trey and I created a transformative and versatile set out of three ladders of various sizes wrapped in brown paper to resemble the craggy, rough surface of a tree and a rock. Placing the three ladders in various formations gave us the ability to move between several environments: the beach on Waiben, a Wildlife Sanctuary with eucalyptus trees, the dark coal mines beneath the Earth, and the rugged Australian outback.

We endeavored to create a set using as many recycled and reused materials as possible. For our United States set, we used recycled paper, new fiberglass ladders, and rechargeable lighting equipment, chosen for their durability and ease of transport and storage. When we toured the show to Theatre Works in Melbourne, Australia, we travelled with our lighting equipment and props and rebuilt the entire set out of pre-loved materials sourced from Facebook Marketplace.

Hidden Symbols

As you create your show, consider symbols that can subtly enhance the presence of the natural world in your show.

The winding, twisting, connected story and set design of KOAL also mimicked the complex wrapping of a traditional weave from the Torres Strait Islander peoples of Australia seen in the work of my cousin, fashion designer Grace Lillian Lee. We integrated the grasshopper weave into the set as both a design texture—which is often interpreted by the audience as a snake, roots, or vines—and a tribute to my Indigenous heritage. My sister, mother, and close family friends dedicated countless hours to weaving for me back in Australia, chatting over Tim Tams and tea.

In addition, my family’s totems appear throughout the show: the lightning sparked by the wildfires, the moth that plays with the koala, and the pigeon and shark that Minah embodies in her opening dance. The frangipani that Minah wears in her hair was my grandmother’s favorite flower. Bringing these moments and elements to life holds deep meaning for me, as it allows me to celebrate my family's history, culture and connection to nature.

By centering the natural world in KOAL, we aimed not only to inform the audience about the consequences of our actions on the more-than-human world but also to cultivate a strong emotional connection to the living Earth.

The Sounds of Nature

Music and sound design can give nature a distinct sonic voice in your production, helping the audience feel fully immersed in the natural world and connect with it on a more sensory level. Composer Ethan Mentzer went straight to the source in Australia, recording ambient sounds, bird songs, and a wide array of other natural sounds, which he used to develop musical themes for each character. My favorite theme is Minah’s. She opens the show by wordlessly introducing the audience to her home, a tree on Waiben, a lush, tropical island dotted with coconut palms and surrounded by crystal-clear waters. We wanted the audience to feel the presence of this environment from the moment the play began. The deep, resonant rhythmic sounds of Indigenous Australian music, which mimics the Earth’s heartbeat, was a source of inspiration. Ethan recorded our friend and fellow musician, Tobias Smith, playing percussive beats on pieces of wood, creating warm and reverberant sounds. We used our voices to add a primal, low hum to conjure the Earth’s pulse, both invigorating and calming. Ethan layered in native Australian bird sounds and Minah’s voice (me!) singing to the tree. This theme recurs throughout the show as Minah, taken far from home to an internment camp, recalls and reconnects with her tree, her home. Through music and sound, the audience can experience nature's rhythms and pulse, fostering a richer, more visceral connection with the more-than-human world.

A Deeper Connection to Nature

By centering the natural world in KOAL, we aimed not only to inform the audience about the consequences of our actions on the more-than-human world but also to cultivate a strong emotional connection to the living Earth—one that transcends human-centric concerns and reminds us of the intricate web (or tree!) of life to which we all belong. This creative journey has deepened my appreciation, admiration, and awe of nature, while fueling my commitment to protect it. I hope that some of these techniques and approaches can rekindle audiences’ relationship with the more-than-human world in your own work, encouraging them to see it not as something separate or distant from us, but as something immediate, magical, alive, and worth fighting for.