The Marble in My Mouth Premieres as PhysFestNYC's Opening Production of 2026

The Marble in My Mouth, a new play devised by Philadelphia performer-creators Lyra Butler-Denman, Tyler Catanella, Graham Cook, and Elizabeth Feinschreiber, will open PhysFestNYC 2026 on Jan. 9 at 7 p.m.

In its third year, PhysFestNYC is a 10-day, community-focused festival produced by Broken Box Mime Theater that celebrates "Physical Theatre"-art forms that center the body in space. The festival runs Jan. 8-18 at the Stella Adler Center for the Arts, offering practitioners and audiences an abundance of productions, panels, and workshops, and featuring the work of over 100 artists. The Marble in My Mouth will be the festival's opening production, with four performances from Jan. 9-10.

Ensemble member Lyra Butler-Denman describes the show as a tender fever dream of loss and love. "The play wonders, 'What does grief want? And why is it here, now, in your mail slot, humming through the radio, singing karaoke in your living room?' Grief is nonlinear, sensorial, irrational, and full of contradictions. We honor loss as both excruciatingly personal and entirely universal, and we delve into the love that continues after death-messy, tender, and alive."

Glen and Jesse's life is filled with warmth, cats, and "ordinary magic." That life fractures when Jesse falls ill, and Glen, alone in a waiting room, learns she's gone. Enter the Squonk, a strange, relentless creature born of sorrow, to shove Glen into the depths of mourning. Memories dissolve into tone poems, versions of himself multiply, and frustration becomes a cabaret as Glen navigates the upside-down logic of loss.

The play was initially devised while the ensemble attended Pig Iron School, one of the leading training institutions for physical ensemble theatre practices. Quinn Bauriedel, Director of Pig Iron School and co-founder of Pig Iron Theatre Company, describes The Marble in My Mouth as "a mesmerizing work, crafted with attention to the finest detail, and overwhelming in its emotional resonance. The four performers use the simplest of tools to conjure a world free from cliché that tackles loss and emptiness. The stunning work is a balm and a gift; it is poetry in motion." Pig Iron faculty member Sarah Sanford also calls it "a beautifully orchestrated piece with a level of physical precision rarely found in theatre. The piece has an ache running through it, but it's laced with irreverence and humor, so you're laughing while tears roll down your face. I left appreciating the artistry of this quartet-not a single moment is uncared for."