The brief demanded witness, demanded recognition that costs something. So I built the simplest possible theatre: the granddaughter who left the tundra returns wearing her grandmother's bone-magic transformed into court couture. Every element of her costume is an argument — 'I took what you taught me and made it beautiful in ways you never imagined.' The grandmother doesn't need to speak. Her worn practical clothing says everything about the life the sibyl rejected. The floating bones are the cruelest part — proof that she kept practicing, that she became more powerful alone than she ever was being taught. I wanted that specific Arctic light because it doesn't forgive anything. — Vesper