Panorama | C’è vita su Venere



Direction and performance: Raquel Gualtero Soriano | musical composition: Aurora Bauzà and Rodrigo Rammsy | lighting design: Arnau Sala | direction assistance: Lipi Hernàndez | collaboration on movement: Salva Sanchis | collaboration on dramaturgy: Albert Perez | collaboration on stage space: Raquel Klein | photography and video: Marga Parés and Alice Brazzit | management: Tina Agency | administration: El Climamola | a co-production Mercat de les Flors, Festival Sismògraf, Antic Teatre | with the support of La Caldera Les Corts, El Graner, Convent de les Arts (Alcover), Danza en Breve (La Laguna, Tenerife), Teatre Auditori de LLinars, L’animal a l’Esquena | Acknowledgements Oscar Dasi, Pere Faura, La Caldera, Semolina Tomic, Javier Cuevas, Aleix Vallverdù, Miquel Fiol

What future awaits the human body?

Panorama is a dance solo that takes this question to the limit with a mixture of fantasy, a sense of humour and a pinch of hope.

Raquel Gualtero invites us into a state of contemplation in which her body guides us through different imagery that we might find strangely familiar. The dancer’s body is the centre of the landscape: clothed in a second skin that evokes a post-human future, it invites you to enter a trance as the only way to reach an intimate, unique and unaccountable place that is not a mere photocopy of nothing and no one. A place traversed by a voice that belongs to us and transforms the casts we had prepared for ourselves. That same part of the landscape that may be strange, inhospitable and unexpected to us, but is definitely a desired place.


By Michele Abbondanza and Antonella Bertoni | with Antonella Bertoni | lighting design: Andrea Gentili | sound elaborations: Orlando Cainelli | technique: Claudio Modugno | mask and props: Nadezhda Simenova | dress: Chiara Defant | organization, strategy and development: Dalia Macii | administration and coordination: Francesca Leonelli | press office: Susanna Caldonazzi | communication: Francesca Venezia | photos: Tobia Abbondanza.

Near its own death the Phoenix builds the nest: there it burns completely and from its ashes it generates the new egg.

Saint-Saëns’ swan (even Zeus had to turn into a swan to get to fertilize Leda’s egg) generates here a beloved chicken egg.

The resulting festive enthusiasm declines into a consuming pink explosion, which flows into an exhaustion and emptying of the character, exhausted and surrounded by the remnants of his actions.

All that remains is the abandoned performer under the costume: it is the time for unveiling, for revealing the possible fragility of one who hides behind a mask, behind a veil and even behind her own face. To see who is watching her and judge who is judging her.