T.D. Mobley-Martinez

Six men and women read from scripts of their own life stories. Some were in wheelchairs. One had prosthetics. One was deaf, one blind. One service dog slept on the stage.

In its sold-out world premiere Thursday night, “Invisible Voices: New Perspectives on Disability” preached on the often isolating and painful experience of living with obvious differences. The animated piece, which runs through Oct. 17 at TheatreWorks, was, at turns, funny, shocking and surprisingly affecting.

Played on a stark stage with no costumes and really, no actors, ”Voices” is no “Arsenic and Old Lace.” Neither It’s meant to be more than either entertaining or educating. It’s meant as a bridge, in fact, between the storytellers and the audience, who struggle with their own differences, if not ones not so obvious to the person sitting next to them. We’re all outsiders at some point in our lives, says director Ping Chong, a New York artist who was drawn into the project by Meeting the Challenge, a company that desiminates the intricacies of the Americans with Disabilities Act.

That unifying notion forms a kind of golden core of this work and one that, for the most part, it achieves.

Built on Chong’s extensive interviews with the performers, ”Voices” is driven by the chronological retelling of a series of life snippets. Some stories deal directly with their disabilities. Others are simply touchstones that move along the  players’ lives. No one is a main character.

In a story that is many stories, Chong uses hand clapping and repetition to create important divisions between the stories, pacing and a funny kind of poetry.

“1955,” each player says.

“1955,” they say together.  

The performances are delivered by these non-actors with an unexpected ease. Although they read from a script, there is acting required because the performers deliver key lines — from parents, doctors, strangers — in each other’s dramas. Kelly Tobin, Rick Modderman and Billy Allen (and because Allen is deaf, voice actor Colin Gregory) are standouts, as capable of charming their audience as they are of jarring them.

Still, there were times I felt adrift, like it was a catchy tune missing  the all-important chorus.

The problem may lie in the structure, which is inclusive and affecting, but ultimately, can’t manage a satisfying climax. How could it when there is no throughline narrative and six equally compelling protagonists? Unfortunately, the one-two-punch power of “Invisible Voices’” is diminished by the conundrum.

Maybe, though, the message is still delivered. As I drove home, I found myself mulling over Allen’s nearly 21 year alienation from both the deaf and hearing worlds; the cruel irony of Sandy Lahmann’s descent into MS after a triumphant recovery from sexual abuse; Modderman’s embarrassed tears as the group worked through his estranged father’s final rejection of him.

Powerful moments all. I’m glad I was there to share them.

•  Get a videol, behind the scenes look at “Invisible Voices.”

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