What if objects are not "ours"? What if they'd have a voice, a will? What if they'd REBEL?
Meet TINY ACTS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE: a drama series on daily objects and one body. This time, though, it is not only the objects that are abducted, used or misused. The human body also is. Because: how would we change our attitude if we could also be mistreated by those things we live with?
A painter makes one portrait each day, the writer writes, the pianist plays. Tiny Acts is the daily routine I came up with to practice performance while taking a closer look at the stuff around.
What does “work” mean? How are its boundaries defined? What is the value one gives and receives?
These are the trigger questions of a work in progress: While We Work. Doctor, director, janitor, cook, thief or tram driver. One person at a time, throughout their working day. And during her work on one single day, I become their “shadow”, silently making a ball. So big the ball, so long the work, whatever and whenever each worker considers it to be. Same thread, similar ball, each wearing a name tag (more on it below). What and where do the differences lie? And, while doing the ball, am I also working? Where are then my own boundaries?
Tiny meaning is still meaning. A moment of presence is still presence. This month's Frist is about LOVE. Love to universal happenings that are minimal and disposable, and yet they make up for a life. Love to finding that which moves us, no matter how small. Frist today celebrates the courage of your whisper, your weird dos, or the wings you put to exist in the highs and lows that might not otherwise exist in another space. Take this Frist (in fact, hopefully, any Frist) as a key to open a door where we might see each other in a parallel and different light - with no expectation, a philanthropic exchange. An ode to life.