It's another hot day in Tucson when a strange man arrives at Catherine's door. To her shock, he turns out to be Greg, her former husband, who sixteen years earlier and for no clear reason left and simply never came back. Now, he has returned, but the family he left no longer exists. Catherine informs him that their son, David, disappeared eight years ago and remains missing. One by one each member of the family tells Greg a version of what happened the summer David disappeared. Their stories are a meditation on loss and the abiding power of the unknowable. But they are also about the need we all have for explanations, answers and, perhaps above all, absolution. For as they reveal their stories, the only thing that becomes clear is that the nine-year-old boy who vanished is far from the only thing they lost.
I don't know. For me, The Architecture of Loss feels sort of unfinished. Like it's a series of images and ideas that didn't quite get fully fleshed out. It's sad and intriguing, but I don't think we spend quite enough time with any of the four central characters to get a full portrait of them or for the play to have the emotional impact it should.
It’s the first play I’ve worked on in my acting school New York Film Academy, and I loved it. I love the metaphors in it, the beauty of the writing and the visuals. And it’s a heartbreaking topic
I thought this was a really good play about memory, moving on, and moving past. Or how none of the above seems to be how you want it to be. The setting of Tuscon and the references to the Monsoon season there, gives it a very definitive place that adds to the desert that is the family in the play.