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by Anaïs Lhérieau
Performer: Anaïs Lhérieau
Music: Non, je ne regrette rien — Edith Piaf
Text freely inspired by Caligula by Albert Camus and the film 101 Dalmatians II: Patch’s London Adventure (rewritten by Anaïs Lhérieau).
by Andrina Hauri
in the South of France
shares her passion
with Pablo Picasso
» Brüten wir die welt neu aus
Wir schüren die zeit
Wir legen die schattenhaut ab
Das feuer bricht aus «
– Verena Stefan
Partner on stage: Anna Lisa Grebe
Text: Häutungen (1975) by Verena Stefan
Music: Andrina Hauri
Image: Andrina Hauri, inspired by Le Regard et son masque (1948) by Françoise Gilot
by Candice Bogousslavsky
Your skin has become dry but still glistening, motionless like a dead tree in the middle of an inert desert, you stare at me with your big bulging eyes.
How long has it been? A good question.
The confines of this cell have removed any notion of seconds, minutes, night or sobriety.
The queen has been warned. She has not yet answered me, but soon I shall know more. Be it in death or in the hourglass that still runs, I will walk without ever perjuring myself again and I will tell well, yes my dear and weight on the word well, profusely, profusely, devilishly and so much more… savour!
Do you think flies remember the landscapes they savoured?
What a dead end, I’m settling but what can I say, I’m dying!
Let the bells ring and let the guest be swallowed up so that others, with their superfluous beliefs, may fall asleep and polish their virtue.
by Filippo Randi
What is art?
Why not simply an interlocutor to whom one can turn to find the answer to one’s critical issues? Even before finding an answer, it is necessary to clarify who the artist is. Certainly not the sole character, rooted and intrinsically present in it, perhaps chosen unconsciously by the artist but evoked by him on a daily basis to placate his creator’s sevenfold identity. Here is the turning point! Faced with this sooner or later inevitable event, the artist can remain defenceless and passively abandon himself to depersonalisation or, with an excess of zero, deny, abandon, trap his character by allowing nine masks to come to life. Such a process presupposes, however, an essential condition: knowing oneself, finding oneself. One needs a medium capable of imprinting an instant in the eternal, making one’s being unique and universal. The best is art. But…
What is art?
Actors: Filippo Randi, Francesco Daglia, Georgia Paliogianni
Music: Filippo Randi
Text: Filippo Randi
Choreography: Filippo Randi, Georgia Paliogianni
by Jolan Van Beek
Alfonso: Good evening everyone! I welcome you. Make yourselves comfortable, make yourselves comfortable. You know what’s going to happen and that’s why you’re here. You want to see Tommy, the handsome Tommy Perverts, peep in. You are eager to know the smallest details and I can already see you in excitement. You like it, I know, I like it too. Get ready to spend the next few minutes with us, watching the magnificent Tommy.
He is here waiting for you, and he is looking forward to it too. Our reason for being, the beautiful Tommy!
Music: Original music ; The Ox-The Who ; I Can’t Get Me No – Satisfaction-DEVO
by Rosalie Völlmin
A room. As empty and weightless as a blank piece of paper. On the edge a woman. Virginia Woolf. A writer, a lover, a seeker. Her heart, the rhythm. It is the place where her thoughts transform into pictures. Where they become story. Her heart the world of the figures she creates out of pieces of her existence. Of her experience.
They want to live and she is destined to give them life. To give them a body.
She is two. She is too.
”I am made and remade continually.”
All texts are written by Virginia Woolf.
by Salomé Coquoz (with Noémie Siraut)
In your diary, do you write “dead” next to the name?
Do you draw a cross, a grave?
Do you add the date of death?
Do you erase it?
Do you do nothing?
Do you have a personal method?
Do you erase the name from an electronic address book?
Do you erase it when you no longer think about the dead person?
Do you erase a distant friend but not your mother?
How do you feel when you tick the box:
Delete contact ?
Que faites-vous de vos morts ? – Sophie Calle
Les Feuilles mortes by Jacques Prévert and Joseph Kosma
Lacrimosa by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
The Big Ship by BrianEno
Wood construction: MOP A atelier and Elia Albertella
by Simon Huggler
You stop on the road
and you think: where do I go? I’m alive!
When I slap myself in the face,
I feel it. Slap! Ouch! See?
Where do I go then? I’m already there.
All you can do is live,
and that’s what I’m doing.
And then you move on.
And shortly afterwards you are killed in an accident….
An untitled text by Mani Matter, published in ‘Was kann einer gegen Zen Buddhisten’ by the publishing house Zytglogge.
Creation and acting by Simon Huggler
by Liam Rooney
“My soul is a mysterious orchestra; I do not know what instruments play or squeal within me strings and harps, timbrels and drums. I know myself as a symphony. ”
Fernando Pessoa was many.
He was a Baron, an exilé in Brazil, a naval engineer and above all a poet.
In short, he was a nobody.
Through the love letters exchanged with Ophelia Quieroz and the manuscripts found in a trunk after his death, the theatre of a thousand actors that was Pessoa has come to light.
I warmly thank my Quarzo class, the teachers and collaborators of the Accademia Dimitri, for these three years. Elia Albertella and the technical team for their help.
Steeven and Artemisia for their listening.
And Antonella Astolfi for being wind in the mill.
Text : Collage composed with texts by Shakespeare, Roland Barthes and Liam Rooney.
by Simon Wahl
Not everyone can see the world as it is. How it is colourful, flat and round, rich and poor, big and small and above all fragile. What makes us stop and see? How do you see it? How would you like it to be?
This short piece invites humanity and movement, humour and magic – elements of our world. We can make it the way we like it to be.
Performance: Simon Wahl, Bernardo Cardoso
Lighting design: Elia Albertella
Set design: Dshamila Wörnhard
by Zoe Notartomaso
One would sometimes think of him as having different senses and instincts from the rest of us. Certainly being constantly in contact with the bark of the tree, the eye fixed on the movement of the feathers, the fur, the scales, the range of colours that this appearance of the world presents, and then the green current that circulates like other-worldly blood in the veins of the leaves: these boundaries of the wild into which he had gone so deeply, could now mould his soul.
(Italo Calvino, The Baron in the Trees)
Cosimo has chosen to spend his life in the trees. He does not fall because he does not want to fall, he does not go down because he does not want to go down. Suspended between the earth and the sky, in an elastic balance of opposing tensions, the desire for coexistence with the world below remains caught in the leaves and sways with the wind.
Texts: Italo Calvino, from The Rampant Baron. Mariangela Gualtieri, from Fuoco centrale.
Music: René Aubry, Acid Rain. Brambles, To Speak Of Solitude.
Photography: Nikoline Schoch
by Tal Erev
“I am afraid of monsters! Stay with me. Tell me a story.”
Do I exist outside the four walls of my bedtime story?
Do I exist without you?
My child, my love, my mother, my land.
You will never leave me again. You will live inside me again, you will swim in my ocean again.
Elaborated text from ‘Anna Cappelli’ by Annibale Ruccello.