The interior of the body is like a long, dark night:
unseen, it is felt little by little, as if groping,
over the course of a lifetime.
If one concentrates, if one practices, one begins to understand the textures; accessing emotions that are there half forgotten, tangled in the fascia or lost in the hollows of the bones.
My artistic practice is like a wandering through those territories to learn their rhythms and their forms, their humidities.
Dancing thus becomes an opportunity to reveal a secret,
to make visible the mystery that unites us.
We will meet for two weeks in May. We will share this time. We will have only ourselves: all the ways we like to move, all the ways we imagine we want to dance.
We will have everyone´s mobility, everyone´s memories and sensations and thoughts and imagination; everyone´s feet and everyone´s hands and also everyone´s ways of contracting or lengthening our muscles and all those other things and things and things and things that will appear as if in a loop, chained to the action.
There will be times when we feel like dancing with each other and there will also be times to forget about everything else and look deep inside.
And maybe there are unisons and ways of being in unison.
And maybe there is a canon and ways of being faithful and unfaithful to the canon.
And hopefully there will be an instant of individual plenitude and collective catharsis.
There will be limitation.
And there will be brief moments in which perhaps a tiny infinity will open up inside us.