WHEN THE CLARION CAME TO CALL Comes to the Cockpit Theatre

Centring on the clarion, a mystical bird and symbol of queer resilience that calls out when trouble is near, multi-disciplinary artist and certified trauma therapist Stefan Jovanović Kaasa channels the cyclical nature of trauma and healing. On stage, nine ceramic urns carry the ashes of their own stories, with Stefan embodying the winged healer, covered completely in an ivory, statue-like aesthetic. Through dance, physical theatre, spoken word, storytelling and song, he conveys the story of each urn. When the Clarion Came to Call draws on Stefan's personal experiences of displacement from former Yugoslavia, and as a somatic traumatologist – a therapist whose practice focuses on healing trauma by addressing its physical effects on the body and nervous system. The performance examines the recurring cycle of trauma and renewal which happens on all scales, from personal to systemic.

When the Clarion Came to Call is Stefan's first piece for their new company, Strange Fictions, following previous work for organisations including Sadler's Wells. Strange Fictions is a new performance company dedicated to crafting interdisciplinary works that reimagine collective belonging, queer futurity, and embodied repair.

Stefan Jovanović Kaasa said, “I began working with clay and ceramics specifically for this project. Each one holds traces of earth, water, and fire — and with them, the emotional sediment of things unspoken or unfinished. When the Clarion Came to Call is a work about transformation. In many ways, the ceramic process mirrors what we go through as human beings: the softness of wet clay, the slow drying of air, the intensity of fire or gas used to fix it into form. Much like a traumatic event, if we're not careful, these moments can harden into a kind of fixed reality — stories we tell ourselves that become rigid and resistant to change. The urns in the piece represent those narratives: heavy with meaning, imposing at first glance, and yet — always fragile. Each time I perform, the ceramics chip or fracture just a little more. Their erosion becomes part of the work. It's a reminder that even the most seemingly solid forms can break — and that our inner demons, however monstrous, are also delicate.”