Interview with Alexandra Mitiku
We interviewed Alexandra Mitiku, whose performance *For Every Home, a Stone* will take place at Parvisali on May 28–30, 2026.
Photo: Armando Tranquille
Mad House: “For Every Home, a Stone” is a ritualistic poetry performance. What inspired this performance, and why do you feel that ritual and poetry can address that?
Alexandra Mitiku: This performance consists of poetry that I have written and shared over the past four years in a semi-repetitive manner, each time with a new adjustment, a little more nuance. Poetic thought is revolutionary because, like a protest, it is disruptive and reparative; it speaks liberation into existence. A ritualistic approach also seeks transformation through repeated acts of intention. This will be the first semi-repetition to include stage design and movement.
At the same time, at the heart of every poem I share lies the essence of 한 / Han—a Korean cultural sentiment characterized by a deep, unresolved grief stemming from systemic or personal injustice, and the hope for change. It is the weight of a feeling that is carried and passed down, evolving through the generations.
By telling stories from a relational perspective, the poetry challenges binary thinking, whether personal or political. Relationality allows fragmented, seemingly unrelated matters to be woven together. We receive so much information these days that we barely have time to react, let alone respond. It is in this moment of contemplation that we become part of the same story.
As Byung-Chul Han writes in his book *The Disappearance of Rituals*, “Rituals are to time what a home is to space: they make time habitable. They are the opposite of acceleration. They create a dwelling, a place to stay. The disappearance of rituals leads to a loss. Everything becomes information, and information does not transform.”
MH: The title of thework, “For Every Home, a Stone,” refers to the 돌탑/doltap, a Korean stone tower. What is its significance in your performance? How does the act of placing stones in prayer and remembrance connect to the themes of home, memory, and algorithm?
AM: One could say that construction sites speak a universal language: scaffolding, caution tape, drilling, hammering, hard hats, machines digging into the ground. And concrete.
Concrete structures are made primarily, though not exclusively, of sand and crushed stone. They symbolize development, but also the destruction that comes with it. The stones in *For Every Home, a Stone* were collected from a construction site in Hernesaari, near my old neighborhood. Reflecting on the interconnection between economic development, the climate crisis, and patriarchy; displacement, gentrification, genocide, and migration; these stones serve as a tangible anchor.
By linking this material to the ritualistic form of 돌탑/doltap, the performance shifts the narrative and explores how we, as witnesses, are builders. How we participate in building the future matters; and whether we normalize extraction or symbiosis. The tension between the weight of the stones and the lightness of other elements reflects the relationship between physical realities and a poem that is also protest, prayer, confession, and requiem. Through this tension, the poem also examines how we fill emptiness and the influence of consumerist thought.
MH: After the performance, the audience is invited to stay and interact with the installation. What kind of experience do you hope to create for the audience through the installation? How does it contribute to the broader discussion in your work regarding the relationship between physical materials and the concept of home?
The concept of home in my work is a response to my separation from it—whether it be my body, a place, or a person. I suppose this is inherent to diasporic thought.
The poems are a way to explore that gap and bridge these divisions by working through unresolved grief. Because these poems depict a continuum between personal memories, mythopoetics, the current zeitgeist, and global histories, I hope they open up a space for dwelling—a dwelling that is both an act of contemplation and a house.
Connecting with one’s own poetic thought disrupts the ways we mimic oppressive systems in our inner world, which is a step toward changing how we shape our external world. The audience is invited onto the stage after the performance, embodying the idea that everyone in the room is part of this performance. Unity based on relationality, rather than sameness, has the power to dissolve the barriers of binary hierarchies, identity politics, borders, and linear time.
