Here is the second episode of the reportage Catastrofe, O Cara: Dewey Dell. Don’t miss them at drodesera 2012!
Describe a scene of a hypothetical catastrophe that might strike you.
Let us imagine ourselves in a desert valley, lying on a blanket among tall grass, under a burning sun. All of a sudden, looking above, we notice that the sky suddenly darkens: a black cloud is moving at great speed. We stand up, dazed by what just happened, and we look around. In no time, billions of grasshoppers pounce on us, there are so many that we cannot see or listen the cries of the people next to us. We don’t know what to do, because it doesn’t exist a free space that gives us time to think. Everything is covered by the instantaneous speed of the grasshoppers’ falling. They hurtle everywhere, among our hair, in our clothes, they eat all the surrounding grass, whatever green spot they find. They keep on falling. Everything seems so horrible. Hastily, one of us grasp the blanket and uses it as a shield. Some grasshoppers keep sneaking under the blanket, but now is the noise that terrify us. A noise like falling hails pounces on the blanket, we keep on crying, looking at the their shapes, and their shadows. We don’t know what to do.
Grown up nourished by the lymph of the Stoa, the theatrical school in Cesena (Italy) of physical and philosophical movement, since 2007 the four young components of the Dewey Dell put to use “choreograph-actions” where shifty and tormented bodies, coming out from the darkness and shrouded in noise, speak a shapeless, solemn and wild language. Two steps away from the abyss – a force that attracts and pushes away at the same time -, a ship at the mercy of the sea, an obscure and uncertain dance or a creature in precarious balance are the premonitions of a possible disaster.
text by Francesca Cogoni
photo by Carlo Beccalli for DROME magazine