↝ premiere predstav v Cirkulaciji² v Ljubljani:
21., 24., 25., 28. in 30. maja 2024
trajanje: 56 minut, obdobje: zero/0 tolerance
Milost / Grace
English text below
"Vsa naravna gibanja duše nadzorujejo zakoni, podobni zakonom fizične gravitacije. Milost je edina izjema. Milost zapolnjuje prazne prostore, vendar lahko vstopi le tam, kjer je praznina, ki jo sprejme, in to praznino naredi milost sama. Domišljija nenehno zapolnjuje vse razpoke, skozi katere bi lahko vstopila milost."
— Simone Weil, Gravitacija in milost, 1. 1. 1947
Dežuje. Na leseni, s šiklji kriti strehi, kaplje škrabljajo živo knjigo obstoja, ki je kakor šum morja, neprevedljiv v kateregakoli izmed človeških jezikov. Ko dež pojenja, se iz krošenj dreves vse glasneje oglašajo ptice. Še preden padejo zadnje kaplje, ptice naenkrat obmolknejo. In potem v blagem pišu vetra letijo.
Medtem ko množični mediji lovijo čustvene orkane in zagotavljajo informacije o hitri hrani, milost deluje na ravni drobnih izbruhov, nežnih povezav in tihih vmešavanj. Milost poganja praznina. Mega ugrizi dosežejo druge celine v nekaj sekundah in razširijo rezervne dele. Sezujmo čevlje. Odmaknimo se od tal. Vpletena je vsaka oseba in vsak predmet. Vzemi enega. Z občutkom vso gravitacijo.
Slikanje z zrakom razblinja zid in zvočenje na kastratih odpira tišino, kar ni nek napredek v kreaciji, ampak preprosto način prebujanja v življenje. Vsi prisotni izdihujejo opažanja in vdihujejo nova. Mislimo s podplati in naše razumevanje se blago topi kot kocka ledu v kozarcu tople vode. V performativni ekonometriji interakcij s plastenjem lukenj v nevidne razpoke prostora se zdi, da slišimo ljubavno pesem iz Rezije in vidimo deklico s piščalko.
Vsaka gesta v tem poskusu nekega dotika je ženska iz Rijksmueuma, ki v nalikani tišini in zbranosti toči mleko iz vrča v skledo. Milost ni koda, ampak prepletanje naših čutov v krhkem kontekstu prej in potem. Bela breza pase svojo raso, vse je strašno.
"Iz skupne more sem se prebudila v lastno in v njej sem videla angela. Stal je na soncu in z močnim glasom zaklical vsem pticam, ki letajo sredi neba."
— Iva Jevtić v pesmi Razodetje
foto | photo: Sunčan Stone
· scenarij in režija: Gotvan Vlado Repnik
· dramaturgija: Nina Meško
· performiranje: Borut Savski
· performiranje: Tatiana Kocmur
· aₚ=tF²: !gor #352;
· performiranje: Jernej Šmid
· performiranje: Marko Batista
· video zasnova: Simon Svetlik
· montaža: GVRLAN
· supervizija: Simon Kardum
· hvala Ani Romih, Mii Batista, Tomažu Kolariču, Tomažu Šalamunu
· fotografija: Sunčan Stone
"All the natural movements of the soul are controlled by laws analogous to those of physical gravity. Grace is the only exception. Grace fills empty spaces, but it can only enter where there is a void to receive it, and it is grace itself which makes this void. The imagination is continually at work filling up all the fissures through which grace might pass."
— Simone Weil, Gravity and Grace, January 1, 1947
It's raining. On the wooden, thatched roof, the drops scribble upon the living book of existence, which, like the noise of the sea, cannot be translated into any human language. As the rain subsides, the birds call louder and louder from the treetops. Even before the last drops fall, the birds suddenly fall silent. And then they fly away on a gentle breeze.
While the mass media chase emotional hurricanes and provide fast food information, grace works on the level of tiny bursts, gentle connections, and quiet interventions. Grace is driven by emptiness. Megabytes reach other continents in seconds and expand their spare parts. Let's take off our shoes. Let's get off the ground. Every person and every object is involved. Take one. With the feeling of gravity.
Painting with air dissolves the wall and the sound of castrates opens up the silence, this is not creation in progress, but simply a way of awakening to life. Everyone present exhales observations and inhales new ones. We think with our souls and our understanding melts gently like an ice cube in a glass of warm water. By layering holes into the invisible cracks of space within the performative econometrics of interactions, we seem to hear a love song from Resia and see a girl with a whistle.
Every gesture in this attempt at touching is like the woman from the Rijksmueum pouring milk from a jug into a bowl in mock silence and concentration. Grace is not a code, but an interweaving of our senses in the fragile context of before and after. The white birch grazes its race, everything is dire.
"I woke up from the common nightmare into my own and I saw an angel in it. It stood in the sun and called out in a loud voice to all the birds flying in the sky."
— Iva Jevtić in the poem Revelation
foto | photo: Sunčan Stone
· script and direction: Gotvan Vlado Repnik
· dramaturgy: Nina Meško
· performer: Borut Savski
· performer: Tatiana Kocmur
· aₚ=tF²: !gor #352;
· performer: Jernej Šmid
· performer: Marko Batista
· video design: Simon Svetlik
· editing: GVRLAN
· supervision: Simon Kardum
· special thanks to Ana Romih, Mia Batista, Tomaž Kolarič, Tomaž Šalamun
· photograph: Sunčan Stone
