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• REFLECTING WOUNDS

  BY FRANKO B

  "As always, I am not interested in just telling my story. I tap and share the story told and untold of our humanity, which I live through witnessing these present times—for I’m here, in this space, and not alone. This performance is a journey through personal and collective memories and history. The body and the artist’s body become a canvas, a sculpture, poetry, and a sound, too"
• TIME, SPACE, NOTHING

  BY FRANKO B

  "Hi, I'll tell it in English. It was a moment one freezing afternoon, left, wandering… wandering on the beach. There were a lot of people, There were people, dogs, children. I noticed this figure that from behind looked like a director, it seemed that in front of the waves, he had an orchestra, and organised and directed these waves. The sea wasn't that rough, but maybe that's how he saw it. And he had no one, he was pretty isolated, self-isolated. Inside this… He didn't talk. He directed. And I even came close before I made the film, and it was just, it's as if he saw something, He was directing. Yet, To me, he moved me, He touched me, seeing him. And then the text came to me. I didn't even have to write the text, I told it and then copied it, Yes, yes. I never wrote it watching the video after, a few days later, I improvised." Franko B.
• Typo3

  BY Francesca Fini

  “The action begins with co-performer Inanna taking my blood, in front of a white table with an old Olivetti typewriter. She pours my blood into a glass cup, and there we dip a six-meter-long white satin ribbon, till it’s completely soaked in blood. Then we stretch the ribbon across the performative space and use a golden hair dryer to dry the ribbon a bit. Immediately, the space gets marked by thin blood trails that intersect on the floor, almost creating a map of our movements through the room. Then I open the typewriter and replace the old ink ribbon with the new one full of my own blood. I sit in front of the Olivetti and start hitting the keys. Without thinking, I write short surreal sentences that come spontaneously to my mind at that precise moment. When I finish writing, Inanna takes the paper sheets and attacks them to the almost invisible white wires hanging from the ceiling. The last sentence I write is ‘Ofelia Non-Annega’ (Ophelia does not drown), in a celebration of female resilience against the romantic depiction of self-destructive female heroism. The action is repeated from the very beginning for about six hours until the view of the performance space is completely covered.”