(the vanished power of the usual reign)
It starts with a leg drama. It goes to the floor and crawls back up the windows. . . for now. Because of a constant feeling of emergency, hands up and kiss me tight, for the drum, for the trance to arrive in the body, to make it baby to our final destination. “Because we know we shall not know the one veritable transitory power”… we dance on an Owl’s Lullaby that Father’s sing where we come from. It’s a sad song but it’s mostly purifying, because of the Fire. Because of the fire we raise our voice. We are the children, we are the dancers , no we are the soldiers, we are of Music and Poetry, we are of the Great Lakes of Canada and of the Mountains of Slovakia heading into the unknown. . .
photo Francis Ducharme
CHOREOGRAPHY AND INTERPRETATION
Clara Furey · Peter Jasko
ASSISTANCE OF THE LIGHTS
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