Something Temporal

Is it possible to be present in more than one place simultaneously? Is the body invisible elsewhere while it’s visible to the ones watching?

Something moves unintentionally. There’s a dizziness in every muscle - as if every single bodypart were fainting. What moves a body constantly recreating itself?

The stage is an all-encompassing glow of color.  At the very beginning you’re cut into a group of people journeying across the stage in a soft yellow glow.  It’s a warm yellow, not the bright yellow of lunacy or warning signs, but the soft yellow of a rising sun or a cosy dinner party.  It’s a comforting space, but soon your mind wanders.  The group of people move achingly slowly across the stage, at the speed of one nerve signal transmitting one demand to one single muscle at a time telling it to move.  In this vacuum of movement and the yellow glow you start imagining things, all sorts of possible meanings, you might even get bored, frustrated, you feel time move very slowly, or better yet you are stripped of your sense of time.  How long have you been sitting there?  You are also the walker, the creative flux of the walk is transferred to the viewer.  After about twenty minutes (or was it forty?) the mirage is broken and followed by various fast paced (and alternatively slow) scenes, or images that to the meditative mind seem like dreams or visions.

Choreographer: Sóley Frostadóttir
Advisor: Steinunn Ketilsdóttir
Performers: Erla Rut Mathiesen, Þórunn Ylfa Brynjólfsdóttir, Viktor Leifsson, Sóley Frostadóttir
Music: Friðrik Margrétar-Guðmundsson
Technician: Egill Ingibergsson

© Brynjólfur Bragason