Chest Open, Repertoire Folded Flat

I found this trunk in the storage room of a Javanese troupe — cedar-smell and camphor, the lid thrown back against the wall. Every figure inside is collapsed to its thinnest self, stacked by generation of use, the oldest pieces darkened to the colour of old tea. I shot it from directly above with a single bare bulb at the edge of the frame, so the light falls into the chest like water into a well.