Philly Fringe 2018: Pratima Agrawal’s ‘Voided’

Voided, in the simple performance space at Asian Arts Initiative, takes a unique approach to narrative with a quick rotation of about five characters (including the playwright herself) who enlighten us about themselves mostly by what they share about someone else. Agrawal, in a tank-top that that says “spaced and confused,” plays them all in turn, distinguished more by simple accessories than physical performance.

The privileges of science

A pair of glasses denotes a white, male university professor specializing in the search for alien life (or, to put a finer point on it, “biological indicators of methane”). He rails against protests on campus from students who feel there is an “inherent privilege” in research that targets the greater galaxy rather than rampant practical and social ills on Planet Earth.

He insists that a refusal to take interest in the possibility of extraterrestrial life is a form of speciesism. And he’s pretty sure that the students who want to scrap his department in favor of more pressing social initiatives don’t even know who Chawla was, and how many boundaries she broke.

Meanwhile, a vaguely southern-sounding contemporary Republican in a hat gives an anti-immigrant, anti-science speech at a rally, deriding Chawla for defying her father to come to the U.S., and taking a plum NASA job that should have gone to an American-born PhD and pilot.

But we learn the most intimate details about Chawla through a sprightly little alien, who appears with glittery antenna-balls on her head. She’s a lowly “purple-collar” worker on “Mission Methane,” scouting for a new planet after extremely Earth-ish concerns (like pollution and vote-rigging) have damaged her own. She discovers NASA’s STS-87 Columbia mission in late 1997, with Chawla among the research crew.

The curious alien follows Chawla to spy on her on Earth. The traveler’s own sympathetic projections about the elements of prejudice and isolation the NASA scientist experiences form some of the most personal parts of Chawla’s story here.

Who has the right?

And we meet Chawla herself, posthumously, in an orange NASA jacket, none too pleased that a playwright is trying to tell her story.

Chawla had a distinguished career as a researcher and pilot. She was selected by NASA in 1994 and joined two spaceflights dedicated to a range of experiments in zero gravity. On her second flight, in early 2003, everyone aboard the STS-107 Columbia died in a re-entry disaster 16 minutes before they were scheduled to land. She was posthumously awarded the Congressional Space Medal of Honor, among other awards.

With subtle but effective lighting and sound from Rachel Ishikawa and Ro Gauger, the performance swaps its intertwined perspectives with aplomb under director and co-creator Sarah Mitteldorf.

Who has the right to tell a story like Chawla’s, a person (like Agrawal) singled out and saddled with monikers like “exotic” while she carried out missions at the top of her field? The play’s different narratives all attempt to find a piece of her, whether it’s her personality, her triumphs, or her challenges.

“Get on the stage, so we can hear you!” Agrawal shouts to her muse. But it’s not so easy.

“I’m not Humpty-Dumpty,” Chawla herself insists. “I don’t want to be put back together again.”