Biko ShakaThe harmful effects of sign language deprivation has been a recurring theme throughout Deaf art, history, politics and culture. Manifesto of Silences, a Deaf-led theatrical work created by Irene Holub, is the latest Australian project to pick up this thread.Premiering at Arts House as part of Melbourne Fringe, Manifesto of Silences describes itself as a “reimagining of opera”, performed by six Deaf performers using sign languages and physical performance.Revisiting the Milan ConferenceThe narrative revolves around the tragic outcomes of the Second International Congress on the Education of the Deaf in Milan, in 1880. This event, better known as the Milan Conference, endorsed oralism (teaching profoundly Deaf people to communicate through oral language such as lip reading and speech) over sign language, accelerating the suppression of Deaf languages around the world. Manifesto of Silences also explores the conflicting values of prominent historical pro-signing and pro-oralist figures, including Edward Gallaudet, Alexander Graham Bell and Charles Michel de l’ Epee. Franco Spadea as Charles-Michel de l'Épée, an 18th-century French Catholic priest and educator who advocated for sign language. Biko Shaka As a Deaf artist, I have created my own Deaf-centric performances. Within the Deaf community, I wonder if by constantly revisiting traumatic chapters from our history, we are stuck reliving our injustice? Or are we able to reclaim our narrative? What is the value of repeatedly depicting, as Manifesto of Silences purports to, “the long shadow of history, where decisions were made upon the lives of Deaf people, impacting their identity and language”? Why are Deaf artists and audiences, including myself, so attracted to the stories that centre on systems and beliefs we want to dismantle?The long shadow of historyIn the foyer of Arts House ahead of Manifesto of Silences’ premiere, the atmosphere was buzzing with excitement. I saw old friends, new friends, colleagues and familiar faces communicating freely in Auslan – Australian Sign Language. Looking around the room, I was reminded that using sign language is an ongoing, powerful act of resistance against oralism and audism (prejudice based on the belief that hearing is superior to deafness).I had hearing loss from birth, which continues to decline, yet I did not acquire Auslan until adulthood. I communicated orally until I started learning Auslan at the age of 18. I once asked my mum why I never grew up bilingually, learning both English and Auslan. She said this option was never provided to my parents by health specialists and speech pathologists. Performers Anna Seymour (left) and Maya Sandon (right), communicating via Auslan and Visual Vernacular. Biko Shaka The audist attitudes underpinning this kind of situation have a deep history. As far back as the fourth century BCE, Aristotle said those who could not speak were unteachable. But the Milan Conference is the most significant modern flashpoint of audism, with its impacts still felt 146 years later. Minutes of the conference outline six different questions surrounding the tensions between oralist and signing or bilingual approaches. One of the key resolutions arising from discussion of these questions was the incontestable superiority of speech over signs in restoring the deaf-mute to society, and in giving him a more perfect knowledge of language, that the Oral method ought to be preferred to that of signs.The outcomes of this decision are still felt. In 2025, the World Federation of the Deaf President Joseph Murray reflected that “14 generations of Deaf children have now experienced language deprivation” as a result of the 1880 conference. I am part of these generations.A different kind of operaManifesto of Silences uses key attributes of opera, such as movement, visual design, poetic language and sound, to explore these fraught topics. Instead of voice, the production communicates via Auslan poetry, Visual Vernacular (a form of sign language storytelling incorporating signing and mime), dance, projections and vibrations from the sound design. Together they create a unique musicality that is seen and felt in the body rather than heard. Dance and movement are key forms of communication in Manifesto of Silences. Biko Shaka There is no interpreting from Auslan to English. For Deaf audiences, it is always incredible to experience a show directly from the cast, rather than indirectly from Auslan interpreters. One line that resonated with me is, in my own translated words, “Language is like rain; one drop is powerful enough to create a ripple”. Like water, language can be restorative or destructive.The use of Auslan and Visual Vernacular powerfully conveys the idea of language as a tangible object. At times, the Deaf cast members clench their fists as if language is something that can literally be held. Elsewhere in the show, the performance imagery evokes language as something that can be touched, cherished, gifted – and taken away.Processing trauma communallyThe performance ends with the poignant message that there is still much-needed ongoing advocacy for linguistic equality. Despite this solemn note, the show left me reflecting on the positive effects of processing shared trauma communally. With collective trauma comes collective healing. That is why I believe our community will always return to these stories.Manifesto of Silences premiered at Arts House on October 7, closing on October 12.Samuel Martin has occasionally provided access consultancy to Arts House.