Some say love is blind, but this cliche is all too literal for 17-year-old Alan Strang, whose complete worship of the stallion god Equus drives him to gouge out the eyes of six horses. Through flashbacks and visits with a psychiatrist, Alan attempts to exchange his passion for normalcy in Theatre and Interpretation Center’s lab production of Peter Shaffer’s “Equus,” directed by Speech senior Alexis Williams.

The obsession Alan (Speech sophomore Zach Gilford) has for horses began when he was a 6-year-old watching one galloping by the sea. His father, played by Speech sophomore Jay Kiecolt-Wahl, discouraged interaction with “wild” animals. Alan’s mother, played by Speech sophomore Colleen Caul, was more understanding but still held back her opinions, especially during religious conflicts with her atheist husband.

Alan found work at a stable when he grew older, where his fascination with the equine animals escalated. He began to see Equus within every horse. In an attempt to become one with the god, every three weeks Alan practiced a secret ritual that involved riding the horses naked at midnight.

Eventually overwhelmed by the power of the ever-present stallion god, Alan destroys the stable horses’ eyes with a hoof pick. Instead of sending him to prison, the magistrate has Alan put in a psychiatric hospital under the direction of Martin Dysart.

Though his job is to cure Alan, Dysart hesitates to try to rid the boy of his intense feelings for horses. He even envies Alan because he has never experienced anything so strongly emotional, said Ron Holsey, a Speech junior who plays Dysart.

“I realize that these passions and this propensity for worship is something that I’ve never had,” Holsey says of his character’s struggle to understand Alan, “and trying to remove them from him would be trying to remove parts of individuality that I can’t understand because I’ve never felt any sort of real passion in my life.”

Gilford said the personality differences between his character and Dysart illustrated opposite extremes of ideas on religion.

“Dysart talks all the time about worship and Greek philosophy,” Gilford said. “Alan worships with his body and is so passionate; he doesn’t think abstractly about it, he goes and does it.”

Williams said the stage production for “Equus” is revolutionary in its combination of the Artaud theater of cruelty with an “abstract ritualistic sort of visceral theater” found in many Greek plays.

“It’s got such great new stage conventions going on and it’s really a great story that makes you think,” Williams said. “The combination of those two things makes ‘Equus’ the sort of modern classic that it has become.”

Five actors embody the horses, wearing large copper-wire masks and hoof-shaped boots that raise them about four inches off the ground.

Costume designer Caitlin Stolley said she enjoyed researching and collaborating with artists to make the masks, despite a limiting budget.

“It’s always a constraint but it makes you more creative,” said Stolley, a Speech sophomore.

Through rhythmic humming and stomping, the horse ensemble represents the powerful majesty of Equus.

“It’s not that they’re neighing and acting like horses, they’re symbolizing the god Equus,” Williams said. “The way that it’s set up and written does lend itself to a very presentational, non-literal representation of horses.”

Speech senior and sound designer Justin Doty composed subtle choral music for the horse chorus.

“This play deals a lot with perceptions of reality,” Doty said. “The specific moments where there are sounds peak up to Alan’s perception, things he is experiencing. It’s kind of an emotional take on what’s going on.”

The horses and actors remain onstage for the entire play, acting as quiet spectators in the background during Alan’s scenes with Dysart.

“Basically Equus will never stop seeing Alan and he can’t be normal because of that,” Williams said.

While Dysart attempts to help Alan’s mind escape from horses, he also becomes trapped in a personal struggle to define whether being “normal” is good.

“The doubts have kind of been there for a while, but it’s really Alan who’s the catalyst for this sort of internal inquiry Dysart is doing,” Holsey said. “He doesn’t really know what is being better off – he can take away the boy’s pain and maybe that is what’s best. Just like a horse that’s reigned up – that’s the feeling that he gets.” nyou