Several Times I Used to Die

Testimony of a shocking and deeply touching theatrical performance.

The atmosphere is gloomy, nefarious. One has the fucking impression of no longer having oxygen in the lungs, of leaving this world. The colours are surprisingly warm, in perfect antithesis. What are we? Immersed in a uterine atmosphere, completely enveloped by a sea in constant motion, sticky: amniotic fluid. A microphone dropped in the middle, a faithful witness, reassuring, alert and understanding, in listening.

Two figures appear and immediately begin to make their way, to seek their own vital space, bewildered by the alienating event. The impalpable wall that suffocates them and forces them to crawl is all-encompassing, at times impalpable but imperturbable. They suffocate, wriggle, squirm, always in a continuous and calm, placid, melancholy. First accomplices, then in antithesis, then involved, then to who only take care to survive. Survive. Naked, deprived of all, they continue to dance in the strenuous hope of shedding the indomitable burden. They are passionate, they believe in life, they basically have an erotic charge. Nudity is meaningless and irrelevant. Excitement is the result of the whirlwind of passions, in a dualism between suffering and pleasure.

A disturbing frame to say the least: children dancing with virtual reality, war images, Windows bugs, masked men doing strange things, Stalin, a Trump worthily defaced by obscene pixels. Unexpectedly there is a desired respite and a single reassuring visual experience is composed, but it is as false as any distorted perception in a dystopian universe, and soon the old omnipresent demons are back. The frame is anything but presence: it is an integral part of the sensory experience.

Destroy the wall. Here appear some gashes. The bestial universe is marred by the arrogance of those who want to come out, dominate it, deprive themselves of it. Pure essence of the ephemeral.

Suddenly, the turning point: a muffled signal that has the effect of an alarm clock for the conscience, literally, sadly quiet. The taking of possession, the unexceptionable realization of the resignation. The barrier is part of us and gives us comfort, much more than a sweet liberation.

I can breath.

I can live.

I can see.

I can fuck.

I can smell.

I can die.

I touch the divine.

Let me be lulled by the suffocating waves of this sea.. several times I used to die. And only then, when awareness has matured, freedom.

If you want, check on #FV6 – #PerformanceinPlayback #2 or by the website.

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