A Radix Theatre production, presented by Boca del Lupo as part of the Micro Performance Series. At Studio 1398 on Wednesday, May 1. Continues until May 4

I want you to see this set of shows, but I don’t want to tell you why: in The Performance Art Trap, not knowing what’s going to happen is a big part of the pleasure. So I’m going to articulate my response in the most subjective and nondescriptive way I can muster.

But first, a little context: The Performance Art Trap consists of brief encounters that take place in four big, custom-built cardboard boxes that are scattered around Granville Island. When you approach each one, it’s propped open with a stick, like a rabbit trap, then you enter and—thump!—the trap closes and you’re inside with the performer or performers. Three different traps explore the themes of fame, death, and relationships. The fourth is open to VIPs only. Good luck with that. It’s the best one, but I’m not going to give anything else away.

Inside the Fame Trap, I got a taste of what it would be like to be a celebrity. I tried a bunch of different strategies for dealing with my status, but I found that everything I ventured made me look more and more like an arrogant asshole. I left with a new sense of compassion for the famous people; if I were in their ranks, I’m pretty sure I’d end up punching fans out. Actor Clay Hastings was my partner in this encounter. He’s quick, creative, and terrifically engaging. The day after I experienced the Fame Trap, I’m still running alternative scenarios in my head. It hooked me.

Each piece only lasts five to eight minutes, but I also had a deeply resonant experience in the Death Trap, where I shared a box with performers Jay Hirabayashi and Paul Ternes. I suffered a bout of amnesia a couple of years ago. When I was in the middle of it, I expected chronic mental disability followed by death, and I was surprised to notice how willing I was to accept those outcomes. The Death Trap reminded me of that episode: I noticed how open I was to being touched, embraced, and even kissed by Death. (I’m not saying that any of that did or didn’t happen.)

In the Relationship Trap, I cozied up with actor Emelia Symington Fedy. At the beginning, I was trying to suss out where we were on the line between performance and reality. Then I noticed how attempts to be authentic always feel like approximations: I never completely buy my own truth. But when I’m with another person, and we’re both trying to be honest, I accept that limitation and sink into comfort.

Most audience members only get to enjoy two of the traps, which is unfortunate. And a central area where audience members hang out between the mini-performances is boring. Still, I encourage you to see The Performance Art Trap. It’s an adventure—Vancouver is lucky to have a company like Radix—and it only costs 10 bucks.