Let’s say that in the image we are looking at suddenly, for a thousandth of a second, the frame shifts, tipping or stretching, allowing us a glimpse of other details of a room that we would otherwise never have seen and may never see anyway. Or, we find ourselves listening alone to music and imagine who is playing it or where it is being played: a whole orchestra or an army of flies, a desert island and us stretched out on the beach or silence after the snow has fallen or the thunder of a thunderstorm in an Asian country in the middle of a jungle of bamboo, or nothing, a bubble of emptiness in which we float, or drums in which we are floating, or drums in which we are in the middle of a room. We float, or Brazilian drums playing Samba or a crowd of people dancing.

In 2013, the centenary of Stravinskji’s Rite of Spring, which in Nijinsky’s performance changed the spirit of dance forever, the choice was made to delve into and touch the imaginative aspect of the famous musical score, thanks also to a perceptual displacement between the visual and the aural.

The pièce, in solo form, is articulated through a surprising and intense choreography that amplifies the unexpected conjunction of sound, dynamic extensions and oscillations of sense, thus challenging the spectator’s usual passive suggestion. The question is: of what vision is the sound we hear made, of what sounds is our vision made?