My phone slides along my trousers. In a performance combining a video DJ set with assemblages of objects, gestures, and intimate or collected fragments of speech, I try to create an increasingly intimate relationship with the audience, through a vulnerability that is both tragic and joyful.
By filming myself at home in a fluid, intuitive, and visceral way, I attempt to convey what moves through me: a multiplication of spaces, gestures, bodies, and sounds. There are the limits of our bodies, and the makeshift constructions we build around them, which express both our solitude and our collective desires.
How, by showing these things to one another and sharing them, do we transmit them through our bodies, contaminate one another, and move beyond exclusion and the private sphere in order to organise a social life and a collective body around them?
Then, the boundaries between fiction and reality, the artificial and the natural, the animal and the human, begin to dissolve. It is only through them — those with whom we play with appearance and disappearance — that we can speak, and that is where hope lies.