AB IMIS | iolagemmainnestai
Year / duration
Concept / Dramating writing/ Performance
Stellario Di Blasi
La Biennale di Venezia
Creation of scenes
Chiediscena, Filippo Iezzi
Mask made by
For curating the objects thanks go to
Eleonora De Leo
Winner of the call
Biennale College Teatro - Performance Site Specific 2021
Courtesy La Biennale di Venezia - © Andrea Avezzù;
Courtesy © Roberta Traversa
Courtesy © Katarina Rothfjell
Courtesy La Biennale di Venezia - © Lucio Fiorentino
Stellario Di Blasi
Fishermen pulled a bottle out of the depths.
Inside there was a piece of paper:
THE OCEAN HAS CAST ME UP ON A DESERT ISLAND.
I’M ON THE SHORE WAITING.
COME QUICKLY. I’M HERE”.
I recognise the handwriting, it’s mine;
AB IMIS is the response to that appeal.
The Recycling the Body, Absence and Freedom themes (as the confined and boundless space of the body and the mind) move with an awareness of wanting to enquire with the question: “Why do we cancel out what happens?.”
Why do we obstinately refuse to move away from the signals which the world sends out, remaining anchored to our ludicrous certainties?
The spark leaves an x-ray image of the potential to escape our skins, to travel across the debris – between fiction and real life – to develop the footprints which connect us up with the Whole; embracing our souls once again, rediscovering the garden and the rain which looks after it.
1| Breaking down the manipulation of others and our preformed images of ourselves, to take on board listening change; like a spring peony exploding with swollen beauty, opening up to the light to the point of rending limbs and hearts, before letting itself go in the knowledge of having lived.
2| Deconstructing action in the light of Artaud, Pessoa, my mother, Michelangelo, the Sicilian sea and Emily Dickinson, accomplices in a never thoroughgoing dancing tea; collecting water circles and shells on the beach of consciousness via which to cast out into the deep.
In this way a new pigment takes to the air: a symbolic identity device within which to recognise ourselves: a colour capable of looking backwards and forwards; my personal Janus Blue.
A magical tool which holds in store the classical connotations and, in equal measure, the absence of gravity of a future rebirth.
In a spatial trajectory which takes on the meaning of an expiation ritual, marked out by geometric symbols – a boxed up expanse of empty volumes – the conflict between nature and artifice brought into being by Pino Pascali summed now with the absence of water transforming itself into synonym of soul obscurity, escaped hopes needing something to hang on to; an icy, misty island of the dead, Böcklin style, whose perimeters are our consumption fetishes.
Modular tiles, millions of souls seeking to breathe on the chessboard of life we close ourselves off on, generate stupor only when, in renewing – from the deepest foundations – we build an assemblage of imaginative and shared faculties.