Everyman Theatre continues to mine theatrical gold with the world premiere of Tuyết Thị Phạm’s Dawn, a searing exploration of a mother and daughter bound by love, history, and silence. Developed through a lengthy process of vetting, discussions, and workshops, the play was shaped by feedback from a gifted and respected circle of artists—what Phạm affectionately calls her “village.” Earlier iterations included readings at SigWorks and Script Tease at Everyman.
Dawn straddles two worlds. One unfolds in Cambodia at the rise of the dreaded Khmer Rouge regime. The other takes place in the present day, in the long shadow cast by a young wife and mother’s harrowing past. As the Vietnam War was winding down for Americans, it was escalating in other parts of Southeast Asia, particularly Cambodia. After seizing power, the Khmer Rouge held the country hostage to its brutal communist ideology, murdering thousands and forcing countless others into so-called “re-education camps.”
The story centers on a young woman living in one such camp in 1975. We first encounter her as a new mother, desperately clinging to the lifeless body of her baby girl. The timeline then shifts to the present, where we learn that this same woman is now living in Virginia. She has a grown daughter, Mary, who comes to stay with her after the death of her husband. In some Asian traditions, a 100-day mourning period honors the deceased, and the present-day action unfolds during this shared time of grief.
Mary has grown up in the shadow of the sister she never knew, a child whose memory has loomed large in her mother’s life. The mother, for her part, remains fiercely attached to the spirit of the lost child, still holding on emotionally as tightly as she did in the moment a camp doctor forced her to surrender the baby’s body. In her heart, she never let go. That unhealed wound shapes her relationship with her living daughter, whom she often neglects in favor of memorializing the dead. She even converses with the child’s spirit as if it were present.
Years of quiet, simmering resentment finally rise to the surface between mother and daughter, leading to a shocking revelation the mother must at last confront. The drama builds toward a fragile reconciliation—imperfect, but deeply human—between two women bound by love, loss, and unspoken truths.
In an interview published in the playbill for Dawn, Phạm speaks about how healing often requires a shattering of who you are, who you once were, and of beliefs once held sacred. That truth lands with particular force in the play’s final scenes, when Mary’s long-suppressed resentment erupts with volcanic intensity, met in equal measure by her mother’s crushing guilt. Bearing witness to these emotional reckonings is Mary’s fiancée, Sam, the production’s quiet anchor. He offers steady support, giving Mary space to vent and rage without trying to fix or advise—simply listening, and most importantly, showing up for her.
A serious and probing writer, Phạm aims to tap into a kind of collective consciousness by highlighting universal truths about human nature. The lasting impression, for me, is that sense of bewilderment that comes from being swept into a vortex of tangled emotions and life-altering circumstances while remaining in the dark about the secrets at their core.
Artistic Director Vincent M. Lancisi curates seasons with a keen eye for excellence, and he once again hits the bull’s-eye with Dawn. “Tuyết’s original and gripping story confronts history with immense personal bravery and grace,” says Lancisi. “Bringing this world premiere to Baltimore audiences—a piece developed right here with our Resident Company—is a core part of Everyman’s mission: to invest in bold, transformative theater that speaks directly to the complexities of the world we share.”
In Everyman’s commitment to championing its Resident Company actors and Baltimore-area writers, it supports close collaboration between playwright and director to ensure the final production honors both vision and voice. The results are clear here. Director Seonjae Kim captures the nuances and emotional shading in Phạm’s script, guiding the actors toward performances that feel raw, truthful, and fully lived in.
This is a piece that invites its performers to leave it all on the stage. Nothing is held back; no feeling is too large or too small. The result is a production that knows when to exercise restraint and when to surge forward at full emotional velocity. Juan M. Juarez’s subtle lighting design beautifully complements Paige Hathaway’s scenic design, whose thoughtful minimalism speaks volumes. David Burdick’s understated costume design is equally well suited to the periods portrayed.
Resident Company Member Tony K. Nam is a scary Khmer Rouge commune director. In his brief turn onstage, he is terrifying, verbally and physically abusing the young mother. Taylor Witt is Sam, a steadfast fiancée. He does double duty as the commune doctor, a sympathetic, non-military type trying to save the young mother in 1975.
Ashley D. Nguyễn plays both the Young Mother and Mary superbly, able to shift from a slow simmer to a full, pedal-to-the-metal fireball. In Mary’s quieter moments, there is a brittle resignation at never understanding why her mother has all but neglected her for most of her life. She reads her mother’s stony reserve as disinterest, and that frustration boils over into barely controllable rage. It’s an impressive range and riveting to watch.
Playwright Tuyết Thị Phạm is a Resident Company member as well as a talented author, and does a formidable job as Mother. Her body language, guarded yet afraid of touch, is a dead giveaway that there is more to her story than we are privy to. She has the ability to say little while remaining fully engaged in the emotions beneath the surface, so that when the play reaches its climactic conclusion—an explosion of raw feelings after long-suffered silences—it is almost painful to watch, so personal it feels in her voice and face.
Bringing such universal themes as grief, guilt, bewildered frustration, and repressed feelings to light is part of Phạm’s reason for writing about the topics she is so deeply engaged with. In her work, we find shared emotions that audiences can readily relate to. This gifted writer and the remarkable company that has brought this production to life are to be celebrated.
Dawn runs February 1 – March 1 2026 at Everyman Theatre, 315 W. Fayette St., Baltimore, MD 21201. For tickets and information, visit Everyman Theatre’s website.
