About

Let’s suppose there are multiple lives living in a body. Lives that live momentarily through gestures, gestures transcribing, scratching language on the surface.

Almost a century ago, in an empty ballroom with mirroring ceilings, somewhere in central Europe, right before dawn, a masculine figure finds himself freed. He is traversing the floor, spinning in a forgotten tutu, and his spins are not only gestures but also music.
Meanwhile, marks of his movements are imprinted on the reflecting ceiling.
Suddenly the room seems full again, inhabited by friends, ambiguous characters from the past and …