Two background extras are sent to an empty storefront to wait for their assignment. They almost form a bond over the productions poor communication but shrinking opportunities for the seasoned union member juxtapose the non-union’s belief that background work will grant them access to principal roles. As they negotiate the shared space, times linear movement is suspended, and seasons move out of order. They debate venturing out, but in an interior world woven of dreams stalked by hierarchies and woke capitalists their rage is set on simmer, until a shelled-out human with rotted flesh arrives and the unimaginable is delivered.

The circular plot in Holding asks questions that are increasingly difficult to ignore. What if vapid identities parade us all into an insular existence, furthering us from humanity? And can Art really save us when it too acts as a commodity that tags the winners and losers?