OBLIVION

Info:

• There should be a trigger warning on the flyer.

Project:

This is a performative program. There is one moderator and two performers. It lasts about 30 minutes. The audience follows the moderator through three spaces.

It begins in the space called Limbo, where the audience experiences a state of in-betweenness. This part includes performance, dialogue, audience interaction, and is supported by music and sound. It lasts approximately 10 minutes.

He is somewhere between here and there. He has no control. There is no progress, no improvement. The only thing left is waiting—for his case to be heard. He is invisible.
THIS IS A NEVER-ENDING STORY.

We are all watching. We have no idea what will happen. We have no control. We scream. It hurts. We fight for them. But there is no progress, no improvement.
THIS IS A NEVER-ENDING STORY.

We define the roles. We set the boundaries. We are trapped in a loop. The next act is just like the last.

The next space is Execution. The audience enters this space without the moderator. Three short videos will be shown, supported by music and sound. At the same time, a performer in this space uses mirrors and colors to create an abstract performance about the death penalty. This part lasts approximately 10 minutes.

After the audience leaves the second space, they enter the third and final space: Oblivion. Here, the moderator joins the performer once again. This part includes performance, dialogue, and audience interaction, supported by music and sound. The essence of this section is reflecting on forgetfulness and the return to normal life. It offers a glimpse into this behavior—something deeply ingrained in our nature.

He is dead. I am sad. I feel guilty that I couldn’t stop the execution. I scream. It hurts. I start to forget—I decide to forget. I sever all ties to him.
That’s my nature.

I want to bring him out of oblivion. I want him to come back to life. I scream. It hurts. I start to forget—I decide to forget. I sever all ties to him.
That’s my nature.

I hold on to him. Time passes. The memory fades. Because it hurts, I begin to forget—gradually. I begin to lose him—gradually.
That’s my nature.