by and with Stefano Mazzotta, Emanuele Sciannamea
lights Stefano Mazzotta, Chiara Guglielmi
costumes and scenes C.ie Zerogrammi
music E. Satie
production C.ie Zerogrammi.
Price: €15 (€12)
Two teddy bears and a Barbie doll with her head attached with adhesive tape, play around in a surreal Dèjeuner sur l’Herbe which seems to have been painted by Jacques Tati.Playing seriously when games are the only serious things that can save us from the tediousness of life. The games of two Candides, a comedy duo like Oliver and Hardy at the theatre of Marcel Marceau and Merce Cunningham, dressed-up like gentle madmen wearing hats, the kind with earflaps, just like two pilots from the Great War in peacetime. Hats for flying without leaving the ground. But rather soaring with the engine off, supported by air, easy like Sunday morning. "Zerogrammi": that is a weightless dance. Light. Yet that does not mean it has no content, but rather that it is relieved of the ballast of contents that pins you to the ground. A dance for flying, flight without take-off as we have said, and then soaring and soaring once more above everyday life, the life made of small things you must not forget. Remember to breathe.
Soaring carried by the wind of our thoughtlessness, or we could even say frivolity, so that we can breathe more easily, and we can see everything clearly, since we are only a few centimetres above the grass of those ordinary days that come once a week and are unique in the simple games and innocent squabbles of two clowns Two mimes and contemporary dancers, but also tango dancers, if the radio plays "Besame mucho", and also two actors, people wearing ridiculous hats and funny pullovers (not to mention their unbelievable trousers).Emanuele Sciannamea and Stefano Mazzotta are the two clowns in a show which is as light as a love story when it begins, as soft as the sweetest wind on a spring night when spring and autumn still existed: as beautiful and delicate as that someone that every one of us has, or waits for, for nice and carefree moments, the memories of which permit us to carry on living. (Sergio Gilles Lacavalla)