Concept | Creation | Writing | Casting | Directing | Technical Directing | Artistic Directing
Something dark grows in Red House. Beneath a veneer of piety and domestic normalcy lurk secrets to be unlocked. Only the boldest are fortunate enough to uncover all the truths buried within Red House. Patrons roam freely, observing and interacting with the characters and environments while the stories of the home unfold. Actors and dancers traverse the space as musicians and sound artists underscore the narrative.
“I wouldn’t call it a play,” Barber says. “I wouldn’t call it a musical, or a concert. I wouldn’t call it a dance piece. I wouldn’t call it a live action game or a choose-your-own-adventure. But it is all of those things depending how you engage with the piece”
Red House was an immersive theater, dance, and concert experience centered around the music of Black Kite. Red House took place in a historic home in the museum district in April of 2017 and saw a sold out 10 show run.
Produced by: Dinolion
Created by: Jeromy Barber, James Templeton, Traci Lavois Thiebaud, Vicki Lynn Tippit
Director: Jeromy Barber
Assistant Director: Traci Lavois Thiebaud
Technical Director: James Templeton
Musical Director: Anthony Barilla
Choreographer: Oliver Halkowich
Music: Black Kite
Vicki Lynn Tippit, Chris Bakos, Anthony Barilla, Cathy Power
Vicki Lynn Tippit, Oliver Halkowich, Shu Kinouchi, Connor Walsh, Marcus Pontello, Melody Walsh
Abilene Smith, Joanna Smith, Noa Smith, Richard Lyders, Megan Gonzalez, Cidette Rice
Traci Lavois Thiebaud, Peter Zama
Technical and Visual Design:
Josh Alan, Michea Arritola, Ryan Meeker, Marcus Pontello, Alex Ramos, James Templeton, Traci Lavois Thiebaud, Noah Wight, Darcy Rosenberger, Ronald Jones
“Dinolion’s projects consistently use technology and immersion to challenge the notion of traditional entertainment, and there are plans to create more works beyond ‘Red House’ that play with the idea of what theater or performance is supposed to be.” -Wei-Huan Chen, Houston Chronicle
“When I saw ‘Red House,’ I noticed a red-haired woman lingering in the kitchen. I interpreted her as a ghostly manifestation of Vicki’s sexuality and suffering. She was tall and gallant, swaying to the piano music echoing from the foyer while nobody was there to watch. I walked in. I started to dance. We looked at each other, as if acknowledging that we were the only ones there. She strolled toward me, and through the tiny eyeholes of my mask it looked like she was floating across the kitchen.
She laid one hand on my waist and held my hand with the other. We danced. Then she put her face against my mask, our bodies pressed together while everyone else was apparently somewhere else, watching some other scene play out.
Only later would I find out she had kissed my mask. After returning home, I hung that mask in my living room, the woman’s dark-red lipstick still emblazoned on the cheek. I kept it not because I wanted something to remember her by but because no one else had one like it. The mask, like the immersive theater, was uniquely mine.” -Wei-Huan Chen, Houston Chronicle
Broadway World Houston