Pulling Strings | theater

Pulling Strings is a work that has been realised as a choreography for a space, a theatre performance, a site-specific installation and a video piece. The movement of the found objects in a specific place starts to produce a meticulous portrait of that space.
It starts with an inventory and the invitation to the audience to observe the space and the objects, dimensions and functions it has in detail - close up, from afar, from above, below, underneath, on top. A choreography emerges in which large objects such as trees, tables, lamps, as well as small things like pens, glasses, tea bags are mobilised in both senses of the word. Not only tangible things are used, immaterial factors like sounds, smells or volatile substances such as smoke all play a role. The process of performative string pulling changes the perception of a place and its physicality by opening new perspectives on the familiar and known.

Fluorescent yellow threads are stretched across the entire space. Tied to one end are the fixtures and fittings of a normal theatre space, lights, speakers, extension cables, curtains or cleaning utensils. The other end is operated by the performers and technicians. They pull on the strings, making them taught and finally bringing the objects into motion. Slowly and continually a fire extinguisher creeps across the floor, accompanied by a scraping sound and continues right across the stage. Half way along the diagonal it pauses - or rather the performer who was pulling its string does. A second string sets the fire extinguisher off and the contents spray a large cloud into the air. As the red shape continues its mechanical journey, a white patch is left centre stage.
Lights lying on the floor stand up. Clacking and bouncing, they begin a dialogue, throwing their cones of light playfully across the floor, the walls, the ceiling. Microphone stands lift their heads like similarly bizarre animals. They look around, suddenly pecking at the air as if searching for food. At first taking little notice of each other, they begin to turn boisterous pirouettes before becoming enmeshed, finally wrestling with each other until they fall to the floor locked together.
Quickly and slowly, gracefully and clumsily, the objects - large and small, light and heavy - move, sometimes imperceptibly, sometimes with a great commotion. A choreography of space emerges, shifting the attention away from the usual use of the functional objects to the relatively unnoticed qualities remaining in the things that seem more and more to be living forms.