Philly Fringe 2026: FringeArts presents How does it feel to look at nothing

Created by real-life married couple and composer/performer/multi-instrumentalists Holland Andrews and yuniya edi kwon, the show, getting its world premiere at FringeArts through September 27, “engages questions of queer parenthood, trans pregnancy, and socio-political disintegration through a poetic, mythological lens.”

Language and visual elements

It’s possible to play with form but still be decidedly an opera, as in ArtPhilly’s Long Live the Queen: A Herstory of Drag (here’s my review). In How does it feel, the singing is part of a “language disintegration” practice: sounds that imitate language but are not, and the libretto is experienced through projections. From my vantage point, the words were mostly illegible due to a combination of font choice, putting the projection through multiple layers of cloth, and the slightly off-center angle of viewing. An accompanying text would have been nice if the artists wanted the libretto to be legible. I’m not sure if this illegibility was a flaw of design, or intentional because of the de-emphasis on words.

Visually, the piece is stunning. KC Englander’s set features white monochromatic materials of varying textures: string hung circularly and layers of translucent cloth hung from the ceiling with cut-outs. This simple but elegant design provides different zones for the artists to explore. Projections (designed by Andrews) combined with lights by Theo Heath create visually mesmerizing ephemeral sights. Costume designer Bonan Li’s draped outfits allow for freedom of movement while also creating interesting silhouettes. The piece feels like a kaleidoscope of sound, movement, and light.

Co-creating with light and sound

The music flows between melodic, harmonic, dissonant, noise, and back. Similarly, movements flow from lyrical to stilted, legible to illegible. Of all the show’s elements, the improvised music and sound feel the most grounded and technically proficient. Holland is a strong singer and clarinetist, and kwon shines on violin, viola, and Korean drums. The movement elements seem less assured. Overall, the show feels primarily like an improvised music/sound piece with movement and lighting as extensions of sound. It marries the creators’ artistic practices into a shared co-creation.

Sound designer Lester St. Louis and lighting designer Heath become active participants in the show’s improvised sound and movement. I was impressed by how well it all blends: the sound and lights are not reactive, but rather feel as if they co-create the piece in real time. That takes notable technical strength and agility.

Fluid dynamism

Some parts of the piece, like the segment where kwon beats on a traditional Korean drum in a shamanistic ritual, reminded me a bit of Jungwoon Kim’s Fringe entry Sesoul Dawon: The Stark Garden of Presence (reviewed in our editor’s guide), which included aspects of sensory deprivation. For a section of the performance, Kim donned a blindfold and headphones so he could not see or hear. His piece was grounded foremost in movement improvisation with music more secondary, while How does it feel to look at nothing is first and foremost improvised music with movement as a secondary component.

This piece is anti-narrative; it embodies a fluid dynamism of overlapping identities, of stages of existence—birth, death, rebirth, and entangled co-creation. While perhaps not an opera, this improvised sound and movement piece is a visually striking and immersive exploration of being.

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