The
BED was born as a game of associations on this
subject, only to gradually become less of a game and to be
transformed into the discovery of the truth about oneself. Each person
carries within himself a story, one single story. Where to start from, the
beginning, the middle or the end, doesn't matter. It is here, if finished,
to be started, if started, to be finished, to be rounded up, if
incomplete. It is always simply a story about the storyteller, regardless
of its theme, characters, time, place, style … So, this show is a story
about those that weaved it. The instruction to the audience is to look for
their own story while they watch. To watch their uneasy sleep, their own
unfulfilled desire, their nightmare, their morning exercises and their
curious neightbour, the mosquito which buzzes around their tired heads,
their panic before the new day, and in the end, a bit of common history,
our own Balkan history with wounded and fools, which has been repeating
itself for who knows how long, while we are seen by the rest of the world
as a travelling discomfort, over which, here and there, they trip and
continue… Without us?
BROD Theatre is informal group of theatre professionals without permanent engagements and permanent source of incomes. Brod (the ship) sails from one show to another, from one theatre stage to another, from one sponsor to another, re-examining its own abilities and abilities of theatre. |
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Bed -
Dream. They say dreams are black and white, not connected, sometimes
unclear and foggy, sometimes like reality, expressive. Radivojevic's play
is oniric, picture-like and cultivated, timeless, therefore black and
white, fragments of scene dramaturgy, in the idiom of movement which
mainly unfolds separately in front of the strong music background by
contemporary Novi Sad composers (Stevan Kovac Tikmajer, Boris Kovac,
Nineta Avramovic, Miloš Jelic i Nemanja Radivojevic), accompanied by the
repetitive, rhythmic and precisely significant invective of the strangely
unreal voice of Rada Nikolic and her song which seems to come from another
galaxy.
Here we are talking about a series of scene images of a (girl's) uneasy dream, filled with nightmares caused by the equally uneasy and nightmarish dailyness full of the "sound and the fury", but also the trivial bits which "mean life", such as the boring whine of a mosquito, an alarm clock ringing while our eyelids are still heavy and our bed so deliciously warm, a neighbor poking his nose over "someone else's fence", the morning shower and stretching, the fatigue of a monotonous life, not enough sex and even less love… At the
beginning it is a game of foetuses, their birth/freeing, getting to know
oneself and the world around, separating individual from collective, love
(humorous witty ballet of a love scene), ecstatic, charged with erotica,
figurae veneris, going away/alienation, death…birth, vicious
circle) ... if we
follow our experience as a spectator we can place this play exactly: where
it has force but where mind clearly lies behind it, however without
dominating the sheer energy of the performance...
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