Residencies

• 31.08 > 06.09.2020

The light has momen­ta­ri­ly dis­ap­pe­a­red, with it colors and out­lines. In the dark, only sounds remain. Nestled in an under­ground quar­ry, five voi­ces chant an ero­ded code. They emit from Chôra, a man­tic radio. Each of their words begin with ​“the ima­ge may con­tain.” It is fol­lo­wed by an inven­to­ry of things and objects. In this code are hou­sed five sung for­mu­las, which once sung bring out pla­ces and times. All con­tain tra­ces of a uni­que ritor­nel­lo, a sola­ce song which we do not know if it rea­ches us from ancient times, pre­sent or futu­re. As if it was this futu­re — the new mor­ning — that was sup­po­sed to pro­tect the past from its own defeats. 

Through a fable, a modest ope­ra offers a sen­si­ti­ve jour­ney who­se star­ting point is a rup­tu­re, a saving blind­ness: the dis­mis­sal of the regime of ​“see­ing”. From this infir­mi­ty other phy­si­cal laws unfold and the voi­ce beco­mes gaze and touch. The echo repla­ces the reflec­ti­on and this tilt ser­ves as a pre­text for a metap­hy­si­cal obser­va­ti­on on the invi­si­ble and the dis­creet forms of exis­ten­ce. Written for a small group of five per­for­mers, a modest ope­ra oscil­la­tes bet­ween abstrac­ti­on and song. It’s a hybrid form for sta­ge and radio.