Parallel Journeys: A Shared Path with Antonin Artaud

Antonin Artaud’s life and work are inseparable, a vivid mosaic of his experiences, struggles, and relentless search for meaning. He didn’t simply create art; he lived it, allowing every fragment of his being to shape his radical vision of theater. His journey marked by madness, Indigenous plant medicine, Balinese theater, and an unrelenting pursuit of a new theatrical language, feels uncannily familiar to my own.

Like Artaud, I can’t separate my life from my work. My art is my life, and my life informs my art. This is why I embrace autoethnographic, practice-based research, a way of working that not only acknowledges but celebrates how deeply personal my process is. As a neurodivergent, spiritual, and artistic individual, my lived experiences are not just inspirations but the very foundation of my practice. Everything I create emerges from the intersection of my identity, my journey, and my desire to transform those experiences into something universal.

Artaud’s exploration of Indigenous plant medicine resonates with me in a way that feels almost like an echo. His time with the Rarámuri people in Mexico and their ceremonial use of peyote introduced him to a spiritual dimension that Western frameworks struggle to even acknowledge. For Artaud, peyote wasn’t just a substance, it was a tool for breaking through the physical world and touching the sacred. Similarly, my work with Indigenous plant medicine, through ayahuasca and peyote ceremonies, has profoundly shaped my understanding of theater. These rituals have shown me how performance can mirror ceremony: a space where energy flows, unseen forces are acknowledged, and transformation takes root.

Balinese theater was another turning point in Artaud’s life. Its ritualistic precision, its hypnotic movements, and its spiritual intensity offered him a model for his Theater of Cruelty— a theater that bypasses intellect and speaks directly to the body and soul. My own training in Balinese performance traditions, particularly the concept of Taksu, has deepened my belief in theater as a sacred vessel. Taksu, the divine presence that animates an artist, reminds me that performance is more than an act—it’s a spiritual offering. Like Artaud, I see theater as an act of alchemy, where movement, sound, and energy come together to create something that can’t be explained, only felt.

Reflecting on Artaud’s life today, I believe his "madness" would likely be understood through the lens of autism. His heightened sensitivity to the world, his intense focus on sensory and energetic dimensions, and his struggles with societal expectations mirror many aspects of the autistic experience. As a neurodivergent artist myself, this connection deepens my appreciation for his work. Autism informs my own heightened sensory awareness and inspires my efforts to create a new theatrical language rooted in sensory gifts. What others might perceive as "different," I see as a source of creative power and insight, echoing Artaud’s own transformation of his experiences into a radical artistic vision.

For Artaud, the convergence of his life and work led to The Theater of Cruelty. Through plant medicine, sensory immersion, and ritual, he built a theater that confronted audiences with raw truths and demanded transformation. My journey, though distinct, has led me to The Theater of Spirit. In this space, transformation is not demanded but invited. Theater becomes a place of connection, healing, and transcendence. Where Artaud sought to disrupt, I aim to guide. Where he confronted, I hold space.

But at the heart of both our visions is the same belief: theater can and should touch the soul. Artaud’s Theater of Cruelty was his way of forcing people to wake up, to feel, to confront the primal truths of existence. My The Theater of Spirit seeks to offer a sacred space where audiences can connect with their own unseen energies and the larger, interconnected tapestry of life.

Our journeys may seem worlds apart, but they are bound by the same thread. We both see theater as more than performance, it is a sacred act of transformation, a kind of alchemy. Artaud’s cruelty and my spirit are two sides of the same coin, showing the infinite possibilities of what theater can be and the profound depths it can reach.