I am not just who I am”
Rooted in an ubuntu thought process, Ah-ma is a beautiful immortalisation of a grandmother exploring the liminal relationship between memories and memory-keepers.
Ah-ma unfolds against the backdrop of a devastating fire that has left a Hong Kong neighbourhood in ruins, arriving as the world is still reeling from blazes in California, Jasper and the recent fires at Arthur’s Seat. The piece makes destruction feel urgent and close, framing it within the intimate losses of home and heritage.
At its heart, Ah-ma is an offering on the loss of memory and the treasures we inherit. It explores the value of keepsakes and the proof they hold that our ancestors lived fully and fearlessly yet differently, with a deep understanding of themselves even when those thoughts have faded. It is also a story about stewardship and the way younger generations hold these histories with care.
Performed by Kasen Tsui and written and directed by Cathy Lam, the piece draws its world from intentional, tactile details. At centre stage sits a deep blue metal chair with a built-in drawer under the seat. Resting on it, a black-and-white flowery pink-based blouse transforms into a baby, an invoice, a veil and Ah-ma herself, spun into the space and wrapped around her granddaughter’s body. Kasen’s precise, gentle handling of the blouse makes Ah-ma’s presence known.
Barefoot in an orange jumper and beige trousers, Kasen commands the stage with a quiet authority, holding her breath in moments of stillness, calling to her husband, examining the roof while standing on the chair and basking in the wreckage. The fire’s world is painted in a warm pink light, while brief moments of respite arrive when former neighbours pass by. When she calls for them to rebuild, her voice softens into the flutter of a bird, formed by her pursed fingers.
Her energy moves from playful bursts of running to deep, red-lit sorrowful discoveries, accompanied only by the rattle of grasshoppers and the wind. Physical theatre sits at the core of the performance: her mother’s pull on her jumper collar, the scraping of the chair across the floor as she wheeling of Ah-ma through the space, and the careful ritual of using a phone card. Some moments, such as the phone call, remain private, protecting the sacred and deeply personal bond at the heart of the piece.
Ah-ma is held together by something deeper than memory. It invites us to witness the slow slipping away of a loved one while revealing the beauty of actively reclaiming them.
Tender. Poetic. A generous offering.
You can catch Ah-Ma until Tuesday 19th at Studio at theSpace @ Niddry St from 11:00 (40mins). Tickets are available through the EdFringe Online Box Office.





