PASTO A DUE

Power means to mark the border. To trace and travel the lines of existence, and in the meantime to experience the difficult territory of coexistence. A territory where the rich vocabulary of possibility magically opens. Power is like walking a moral tightrope. A work of resistance and a geometry of limits. Power is the choice to give or take in front of the banquet of possessions. This meal for two – a table set with all possible conquests, a loaf of bread demanding the sacrifice of sharing it – is a treatise on strength, on surrender and opposition, on consumption and preservation, on defeat, retreat, subjugation and listening. Two bodies reminiscent of Atreus and Thyestes, the main characters of the Senecan tragedy, sit composedly at a table where, according to the Latin author, the most atrocious dish of revenge will be served. But here the story interrupts just a moment before the end, in a space where tension has reached its climax, altering and cracking the surface composure of the two noble characters, and gradually dismantling the structure of etiquette. They are now like two sharks, with teeth polished with baking soda and a taste of iron in their mouths. The air around that unique meal is soaked in conspiracy, taut as a high-voltage barbed wire and sharp like the blade of a guillotine, trembling with the desire to surrender to the force of gravity. Their bodies sit stiffly, their watchful eyes search for the slightest vibration that could arouse suspicion. They keep silent or whisper. That's the question of coexistence – to use or abuse, to exceed your powers over the others or take them in. It's a story of bodies and weight ratios. You can crush or suspend and sustain them. You can run to meet each other or act according to rival forces. (PASTO A DUE ends the diptych inspired by the myth of Tieste, undertaken with the previous creation PUNTO DI FUGA).