Nature, crops, and the feminine presence of the landscape stand in contrast to the male-dominated institutions of education, finance, and ministry and their accompanying architecture. The design acknowledges the coexistence of crude worldly ambition and the sincere search for belief and transformation.

We also considered Sharon Falconer’s visual world: whether she belonged firmly within the Gothic Revival language of the period or hinted toward the emerging sensuality of Art Nouveau. Ultimately she remains grounded in the former, though the design of fire itself may carry a more ecstatic visual motion — swirling upward in a gesture toward rapture.

These ideas led to a formal architectural frame for the production: a Gothic Revival structure of walnut paneling that opens to reveal shifting environments. The story begins in dark-paneled rooms filled with men plotting schemes and ambitions before expanding outward to the sky and cornfields. As Elmer — and we — become transfixed by Sharon, the environment transforms into the airy canopy of the revival tent.

Volunteers raise the new tabernacle before our eyes, intimate scenes unfolding beneath its heavy beams. In the end, the structure opens in full celebration, embracing liturgical color, agricultural imagery, Pentecostal fervor, and the electric promise of the cross itself. From this space we glimpse the distant fields of the horizon — until that promise, and its violent electricity, ultimately collapses.