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If we could do without words, if we could have something more substantial and silly, direct, oblivious, astonished in return, then… (T. Landolfi)
I let the signs that I received go away from me. (A. Warburg)
Nowadays it is unconceivable to love without preliminarily considering that by now, love is impossible or at least condemned. (E. Zolla)
Two actors. Two lovers. Nothing of their human lives transpires, even their names cannot be found in the text. A love story because of its language, its form. A possible reflection on love dialogue as a destroyed and destroying language, an impossible language, a language beyond utopia.
Breve canzoniere is a prosimetrum inserting in a brief novel 14 sonnets dedicated to the female character and subjected to her merciless judgement. It's a utopic dialogue between two creatures made of words, two assembly lines of significations. What will happen when all the words run out? What will become, in deep silence, of this LOVE? Will this survival be a light, a color, a smell? Will the most "worn dark and dusty" words, the words-bombs, remain unexploded? Will the most violent and crude dialogue be capable of becoming phantasmatic blow, chirping of angels, music, such as in the sonata for flute and orchestra K.313 by Mozart, the deity, the bard, the rhetorical model that's always evoked?
Synopsis
K.313 is connected to an image-icon inspired by a chronicle event: the terrorist attack at Theatre Dubrovka in Moscow in 2002, when a group of Chechen terrorists took the audience as hostages.
Here, as a matter of fact, the spectators aren't held as hostages by any terrorists, but it's one of the most ferocious texts by Tommaso Landolfi imprisoning the audience and the artists in a situation bordering on surreal. There are two actors on stage, in front of a little table with two wire microphones, two tape recorders, a notebook of poems, some love letters, an abat-jour, a powder-compact, a pack of cigarettes, some dice. The two, who wear elegant high fashion costumes hinting at terrorist imagery (elegant woollen caps, a shining handbag-explosive...), fix an infrared camera shooting them during their whole dialogue.
The film is projected live on a big screen behind them, and that coarse image recalls the well-known video messages recorded by terrorists and sent to TV stations. The recital’s development is twofold: on one hand the bare text, rarefied, very intimate, on the other hand Mozart’s music, recalled by Landolfi’s words (the Concert for Flute and Orchestra K.313), spread by the tape recorders and amplified by the very microphones. In the end a battery of flashes breaks the dialogue, lighting from time to time the two figures, sunk into their chairs. |