Witnessing holds terrible power: in Macbeth, this ability transcends the human, taking on a supernatural aspect. Rather than localize the three Weird Sisters—Macbeth’s first and continual witnesses—to a trio of performers, our production disembodies them. Doing so blurs the barriers between human and witch, transforming the entire performance space (with all of us inside) into a bubbling cauldron and rendering the play itself as an infernal charm that may be “wound up,” but will never end. Mbembe, after all, did not write Necropolitics about medieval Scotland, but about our world today: one in which we feel ourselves buffeted by forces outside of our control; one in which 24/7 witnessing never stops; one in which human-enacted violence never ceases; one in which the frame of things disjoints, the earth itself revolts, and Birnam Wood seems poised to march on Dunsinane.
