Deceit – Lies / mensogo /pehh‑tshaht / Uso（うそ ）

If language is inevitably full of gaps, can we still believe one another?

“Is the white you see really the same white I see?”

We think we speak in order to understand one another.
But once a sentence leaves our lips, it passes through another person’s memories, experiences, fears, and expectations. By the time it arrives, it may no longer be what we meant to say.

Every sentence is a translation. We just assume we’re speaking in the original.

Lies begins with an almost obsessive question—

If something isn’t one hundred percent true, is it a lie?

#Co-Creation

Four performers and one director begin with real communication breakdowns from the rehearsal room. They take language apart, debate it, translate it, and overturn one another’s answers again and again.

Perhaps theatre is the most absurd place of all:
a group of people who can never share the same brain, trying to use the most imprecise thing we have—language—to create the exact same world.

Is “I understand” ultimately just an illusion?

Is every “honest truth” merely an image constructed by someone else—
and, to me, nothing but a lie?

If every lie splits the universe into multiple realities,
then every performer must be held responsible
for the Big Bang.

Exploding,
again and again,
inside the black box.

BOOM!
BOOM!
BOOM…

誑 — Lies ／ mensogo ／ 白賊 ／ 噓（うそ Uso）