When you were growing up, your body was pure movement.
It ran, it fell, it touched the world —
without thinking about how it looked.
And it was so long before the moment when you learned to look at yourself.
stage “0” — returning to the body
stage “1” — opening the eyes
darkness, hiss, hum, interference.
Start.
Abort.
Start.
“People will do anything, no matter how absurd, in order to avoid confronting their own souls.”
— C.G. Jung
Light inside appears only when you pass through the black.
Through nigredo — the alchemical stage of dissolution.
“Like any true story, mine goes back to childhood.
My story quite literally took root in a birch tree planted by my grandfather before I was born.One day he saw it in the forest, fell in love with it, and decided it had to grow at our dacha. I grew, and the birch grew with me.
I touched it as something ancient and wise, spoke to it.
Every year I noticed how effortlessly it shed its thin layer of bark.
How natural and simple it was — to let go of the old, the unnecessary, the expired.
I thought: how beautiful it would be if people could release the old just as easily, and renew themselves.”
— M. Dolgorukova
Demon
dedicated to M. Vrubel
What if the hungry beasts we cage inside,
What if the shadows sharpen whilst we sleep,
If it's just us, unloved, we learn to hide,
And all those sleeping questions burrow deep.
The guitar rings, my trembling fingers play,
The fire flares up in hell-blue, licking flame;
Let all your demons step into the ray —
We know, in truth, there's only us to blame.
What if my voice still finds you in the night,
In that last dark before the breaking day,
When one small “why” steps forward, burning bright,
And asks if meaning lies beyond our way.
Who'll still this flood of love that isn't there,
Why call my name and act as if you care?
I'll walk through hell beside you, if you dare,
Turn to your demons; truth will meet you there.
“There is nothing in the body that ‘must be’ a certain way.
It is not about shape, size, or age.
This performance asks: is the body sensitive, does it have access to the invisible and sacred — to the heart, the soul, its nature?
Is renewal available to it?
Can it move, sound, jump, sway, spin on its own?
The authors invite you to walk this path, regaining balance — through a double inversion of the visible and the invisible.”
— Anna Kachura