Morsi d’ Anguria

This show, which is a clowning, was born from an intimate need: to restore centrality to the body, to the voice as voice, without the deception of words, to gesture, to silence. It is a visual and poetic journey, constructed with the hands, with breath, with memory. Each scene is a transformation: from childhood to the construction of identity, up to final awareness.

I don’t use words—or almost—because the language of the body reaches where words often stop. The stage is inhabited by hands, objects, sounds, and metamorphoses. Sometimes a shoe, two fingers, or a breath are enough to tell a world.

A curious anecdote: some of the scene ideas were born while playing with my daughter, who at six years old has an extraordinary visual and poetic intelligence. Watching her construct worlds with objects and stuffed animals, I understood how much theater must return to being a living material, a game, and a revelation.

This work is also dedicated to those who feel that, even without words, they still have something to say.