byMichele Abbondanza e Antonella Bertoni
performed by Antonella Bertoni
lighting design Lucio Diana
technical director Enrico Peco
organisation Luisa Costa
produced by Compagnia Abbondanza/Bertoni
with the support of Ministero per i Beni e le Attività culturali – Dip. Spettacolo Provincia Autonoma di Trento - Assessorato alla cultura, Comune di Rovereto - Assessorato alla cultura, Cassa Rurale di Folgaria - Filiale di Rovereto
special thanks to Danio Manfredini/CID Centro Internazionale della Danza/CRT Centro di Ricerca per il Teatro
RUNNING TIME 50mins
It's available a shuttle bus from Teatro delle Passioni to Ponte Alto. Departure time an half an hour before the beginning of the play
We leave the five-year cycle of the project I have an Other-ache. The final image of Polis dissolves (’05), last part of the triptych, with its weary figures, immolated on the third sacrificial altar. After the paths from the family to the state and from the couple to the mass (Alcesti ’02 and Medea ‘04), we feel the need for a silent atmosphere, rarefied and more intimate: as if the stage floodlights turned and repositioned themselves from the outside to the inside, from he exterior to the interior, from the “other” to the “self”.
Let us imagine an solitary body, abandoned on the stage, seed of a new dynasty, witness of an ending as well as founder and survival of a different dawn. In hesitation and immobility, it will bring to light its utopia, and this will give sense to its being alive, alleging against all evidence that life does have a meaning. Beginning of a path in solitude, of a new departure, of a crossing.
In that body are all bodies and the history of the whole of humanity: a female body, then. And since words fail before images, the human figure will appear primarily as a shape; in its being aura and frontier, we have tried and understand how the soul can keep itself within this profound wrapping, and how, with wrenches and silence, it can create a mystery out of the substance by which it is imprisoned. Material of the essence of universe (or “of the dreams” W. Shakespeare), so proficiently combined, but still source of new perceptions, if only we listen carefully: the wind, the river, the mountain from which it originates; the births which generated it and which it will still generate; the stones in its bones, the salt, the iron melted in its veins. A shape that, if shook by deep passion, will transform itself and remodel the substance it contains into something distant and wholly different.