We move from plan A to B to C to D.
While everything is on hold, we pretend, we simulate, we try to continue and make do. While we reconsider the history that is our point of reference, we imagine the future in which we will all be here together again. We collaborate across distances and stage the spaces in which presently absent performers may one day make an appearance.
We move in and out and focus on the space beyond the visible. The worlds underneath the surface we walk on. The landscapes under our feet. The layers beyond what is shown.
Today’s new present presents itself as a challenge, as yet another space in which and with which to work, another space to interrogate, to infiltrate, to adapt to, and to subtly shift, from the inside out.
In gone here (yet) to come, the theatre space becomes a canvas onto which different realities are projected. The performance molds and sculpts the space and the air that fills it. It transforms time. It highlights what lies outside of this space: its margins and edges, and what pours in through the cracks and holes in the boundaries that define it. Digging, deeper and deeper, into the space and the time of the theater, gone here (yet) to come excavates lost memories. (g)hosts guide the audience on a journey, revealing other versions or dimensions of the world as we know it.