LUCAS MANCINI

Every opportunity to witness the talking horse is met with uproarious public support. In the stadium a layer of bodies jostles over staircases and rows of seats like ant trails. The sell-out crowd usually doesn’t fill its seats until deep into the first act—it’s a long haul event, a slow burn to start. Horse speech. And all along he’s down there, stock still, stood behind a condenser mic complete with horse-sized pop filter.