Ghost Writer and the Broken Hand Break

Three performers endlessly revolve in a hypnotic choreographic concert. Three bodies fighting gravity, three dervishes striving to align with the stars, to vibrate at one with the galaxy that surrounds us. Speed and balance, control and tension, percussions and vibrations, invasive and entrancing.

“In transition. Vibrating with the smallest detail in the galaxy. There is no frame to be added, only gravity. Giving in to its pull, I will fix one of my hands to the heavens and the other one to the ground. My vocal cords will tremble, but I will remain calm. Boundlessness will kick in. Without ever breaking the movement, I will start singing the songs we wrote about matters of life, death and shapeshifting. Three bodies will be spinning on their axis next to me, all at different speeds. They will be in all kinds of futures and pasts, making sounds with their instruments and tongues, all aligned with their feet. When the time comes to stop, we will look at our own palms and break the spell of never-ending transition. The truth is always there somewhere.”   

Text © Miet Warlop 
Photo: © Boris Brugel