From the author: Theater is uniquely alive and at-risk in every moment; or it can be – if the elements are right. It is uniquely alive in the way that quotidian life is not necessarily alive and at-risk. It is necessary medicine. An ancient medicine. A ritual of self-realization. World literature has produced only a handful of great plays; there is far less first-rate drama than there is poetry or prose. It is a unique and absolutely challenging form: theater demands the crystallization of the way we – whoever we are at any given point in space time- live, think, breath, feel. Ardor, whether it succeeds or doesn’t, is ontologically and linguistically ambitious: it attempts to put pressure on our own sense of ourselves not as beings in the world, but as beings who use language to define the world they live in. More prosaically: Ardor is about us, but it is also open to re-interpretation in the future. I didn’t want to write a play that will be useless in ten years: this is not a blog article about young people or contemporary art – it’s about the chaos that underlies human nature; a chaos that can be painted with different colors and associations.