A ritual-like, beautifully unrushed piece about connection and control
Written, performed, and directed by multidisciplinary artist Crystalia Varelis, the piece follows two very different sisters living under the shadow of their sick mother. But this is no rowdy family drama. The story unfolds like three separate threads that gradually connect, unravelling through lyrical storytelling that is softly spoken, almost ritualistic.
Varelis addresses the audience directly as Niky, who steers the narrative by reflecting on unseen networks – tree roots, intimate relationships, or family ties – that can sometimes connect, sometimes constrict. From there, she moves between Niky, her sister Elena, and their mother Stavroula, embodying three women whose lives and worldviews have pulled them in very different directions.
Niky is on a self-discovery journey outside of conventional – binding – structures: moving around, sleeping on the earth, facing the threat of not finding water, and currently being evacuated due to a wildfire. Elena, on the other hand, is a perfectionist who has insisted on moving their mother into her home to care for her, the notion of caring subtly becoming a form of control. Stavroula lives surrounded by bottles of medication, facing surgeries and walking with a cane. She is in pain and firm in the decision that, should her condition take a turn for the worse, she does not want CPR or machines keeping her alive. She claims to have sacrificed too much for their daughters – although it’s unclear what she means – and longs for the three to reunite.
Varelis’ transitions between characters are beautifully unrushed, without the usual breakneck speed favoured in multi-roling, and each woman is distinctively embodied. The transformations are slow, almost like a ritual. Hands are washed in a bowl, clothes are changed, and the stage is washed in crimson as a voiceover evokes conversations with the characters. Once the transition is complete, each woman delivers her monologue, confiding their deepest thoughts in the audience and layering our perception of the other two. Our understanding of the family story grows and interweaves with each account, not tangled but connected, as the play would put it.
And that’s one of the show’s powers: each character gets their say, no judgement, and it’s up to the audience to place their sympathies. I personally sensed a slight mockery towards one sister’s sense of victimhood, but a part of me wonders how much of that reading reflects my own understanding of control, connection, and responsibility. The play allows for that kind of introspection.
The metaphors accumulate, both visual and spoken. Niky works her way through tangled yarn as she reflects on an interconnected world and how letting go may help undo the knots; Elena manipulates clay as she talks about her sister and mother, moulding it with controlled pressure and affirming that everything in life can be shaped in that same way.
These moments create a soothing and hypnotic atmosphere: clay, poured water, tangled yarn, melodic singing… they all come together for the storytelling. A soft soundscape adds to the show’s organic, homemade feel through the crackle of flames and the tapping of raindrops.
The piece runs for around 40 minutes, and the pace allows every word to settle so we can savour it and absorb the meaning behind it. And just when it feels that an energy shift is overdue, the piece ends with a full-circle moment that comes subtly yet strikingly, keeping the quiet intensity that has carried throughout the show.
Ultimately, Controlled Burn tackles how we may seek control over our own lives and the lives of those around us, and how far people can go to maintain it, all through the lens of intricate family ties. And it leaves it for us to untie where care ends and control begins.