It is quite easy to make the audience feel the presence of the world that is cold like outer space and rigid like protruding rebar.
First, you need to replace the plotline with the rotation of people. People who look similar to the audience and have arms, legs, and head, but are overwhelmed. Overwhelmed with fame or pain. Focused on the importance of a moment. A politician on the podium, an outcast at the execution, the one who stayed – in endless emptiness. Somewhere in this emptiness, all the stories come together. Having several characters gives the opportunity to go beyond the linear description and perception. But getting away from a flat, two-dimensional plane is not enough.
Second, you need to slip away from the fatal nature of rules. Why not turn the modern interdependent theatre relations upside down? Why not make an actor depend on lighting and not vice versa?
Third, you need to find the actor. Podnozov. Who is capable of anything. Who easily breaks the concrete of dailyness, turns plastic sheeting into a huge chunk of ice and flounders inside it like a fly. Or like the last cosmonaut in human history.
That's basically it. All is visible and understandable. To give a name to the phenomenal world available to us, the world of our experience, the philosopher and mathematician Charles Sanders Peirce coined a word: the phaneron.