How do we, as individual human beings, position ourselves in the face of crisis?

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In Se domani, the word “crisis” is resemanticized through its original meaning: a choice, an opportunity to rediscover the Other, to renew oneself, to be alive and not consider oneself immortal, by remaining in relation with what lies outside us and allowing reality to pass through us.

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It seems that human beings need to find themselves in a state of emergency in order to act, and that they are only capable of contemplating the possibility of change when it becomes inevitable. Until then, the only option is to survive as best one can: ignoring, forgetting, moving forward along a path whose sole focus is the ego, in a blindness — more or less conscious — toward the Other surrounding us.

On stage, two bodies define the boundary of a liminal space, a corridor advancing in constant confrontation with the gaze of the observer. A repetitive trajectory whose “moving forward” is based on the performativity of appearing, of being watched, forcing the body to expose itself more and more, until it surpasses the physical limits of the human. Within this bulimia of images, within this cult of individualism, the performers’ gaze dissolves, sinking into a corporeal and existential blindness. A repositioning of the gaze — and of oneself — of the meaning of one’s own body and the space one occupies, becomes necessary in order to reconnect with the human and collective dimension of welcoming one another, of moving together through the world.

The two performers, representing a collectivity enclosed within a monad of patterns, walls, and protections, encounter otherness — and therefore themselves — until they finally touch, moving together through a shared crisis.

The sound accompanies the disintegration and reconfiguration of the bodies and, through its rhythmic and relentless progression, transforms into song.