The much too blue sky of an endless afternoon. The immobility of a half-hearted heavenly orb. A thousand pieces of plastic in the stomach of a beached whale. On stage, two figures on a broken threshold, saving no other world but their own. They live and are full of life. Their gestures suggest the ongoing occurrence of a catastrophe. Maurice Blanchot: “Disaster ruins everything while leaving everything intact.”
“‘Step, step, step,’ came my mother’s voice as she led me up – and sure enough, the surface of the next tread would receive the blind child’s confident foot; all one had to do was lift it a little higher than usual, so as to avoid stubbing one’s toe against the riser. This slow, somewhat somnambulistic ascension in self-engendered darkness held obvious delights. The keenest of them was not knowing when the last step would come. At the top of the stairs, one’s foot would be automatically lifted to the deceptive call of ‘Step,’ and then, with a momentary sense of exquisite panic, with a wild contraction of muscles, would sink into the phantasm of a step, padded, as it were, with the infinitely elastic stuff of its own nonexistence.”
“There is, it would seem, in the dimensional scale of the world a kind of delicate meeting place between imagination and knowledge, a point, arrived at by diminishing large things and enlarging small ones, that is intrinsically artistic.”
Vladimir Nabokov, Speak, memory
concept and performance Nathan Ooms, Anna Franziska Jäger | script, music Yves Tumor, E.E. Cummings, T.S. Eliot, and others | mentors Christine De Smedt, Friederik Le Roy | visuals Anna Franziska Jäger
V36, De Vrièrestraat 36 (Google Maps)
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