Dance Theatre Concert
There was a hazelnut bending in the wind and I heard whispers of hairs growing longer. The breath was a stream running upwards, taking stars for eyes, the meadow for the skin. It doesn’t cast a shadow; it walks as owls fly in a sensible silence. And yet, it appeared to be transforming from a mountain to a blade of grass, from an insect to a tree. I ask myself, what blood would run through this creature? What does it wish to say? We take the form of music and dance to invite Lesnik to appear. It is advised to laugh when one sees a Lesnik, and depart peacefully by offering salt to fire.