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Silverfire 07/02/2019
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Floyd
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Floyd
Delikatessen - A stage play with levitation, teleportation, alcohol, fruit, oud & leather
First elevator:
The stage is stone and empty. White, bright light illuminates the scenery, in the middle of which bubbles from a golden bottle, wrapped in red leather, high-percentage rum, which bittersweetly befuddles the audience as if it wanted to make them drunk, intoxicate their senses, make them believe that the room is turning. Maybe he does, the stage stays silent. A dozen oriental spice merchants in yellow tunics serve rum and cola, while the first shades of red and amber mingle with the now dimmed lighting.
Second lift:
After about ten minutes, Davana, dressed in yellow and white, appears on the hub podium in the middle of the stage, bathed in dark blue light. Sitting on damp earth she now becomes the pivot of the piece, she begins to spin slow-motion threads of eucalyptus, which grow through the air into the room, giving birth to plums, which they float in slowly pulsating drops of rum and let burst in uneven intervals in gentle spray mists, moistening the wooden floor in the hall, allowing balsamic-sweet, earthy-woody, slightly smoky haze to rise and from then on to sway around the room. Hardly noticeably the stage lighting has shifted into deep orange-golden amber.
Third elevator:
At first, tiny leather particles, barely perceptible to the audience, float over invisible teleportation mechanisms towards the centre of the stage, accelerating as they approach the protagonist, they are redirected to the audience by her calmly extended hands and more and more joined together. The light leather softly covers the seats, armrests, legs, arms and finally the bodies of those present, breathing sweetly like a veil, softly creaking in bitter oud. For hours, Davana changles the scenery with the notes of her heart, but she makes the threads thinner, the drops smaller, the fog lighter, before it slowly disappears into the stage floor after about 5-6 hours (depending on the temperature and size of the hall and the audience). Now a fade-out of several hours begins, in which the woods dry slowly, the fruits wither into light sweetness, tempered by the spicy bitter Oud, which performs a slow bone dance in the still damp earth of the stage center, while the light of the remaining spots goes out to it.
A stage play of the Moderat-Sillage-Ensemble for all seasons. Noble, warm, mysterious, multi-layered.
(With thanks to Yukiko who sent me this fragrance in exchange)
The stage is stone and empty. White, bright light illuminates the scenery, in the middle of which bubbles from a golden bottle, wrapped in red leather, high-percentage rum, which bittersweetly befuddles the audience as if it wanted to make them drunk, intoxicate their senses, make them believe that the room is turning. Maybe he does, the stage stays silent. A dozen oriental spice merchants in yellow tunics serve rum and cola, while the first shades of red and amber mingle with the now dimmed lighting.
Second lift:
After about ten minutes, Davana, dressed in yellow and white, appears on the hub podium in the middle of the stage, bathed in dark blue light. Sitting on damp earth she now becomes the pivot of the piece, she begins to spin slow-motion threads of eucalyptus, which grow through the air into the room, giving birth to plums, which they float in slowly pulsating drops of rum and let burst in uneven intervals in gentle spray mists, moistening the wooden floor in the hall, allowing balsamic-sweet, earthy-woody, slightly smoky haze to rise and from then on to sway around the room. Hardly noticeably the stage lighting has shifted into deep orange-golden amber.
Third elevator:
At first, tiny leather particles, barely perceptible to the audience, float over invisible teleportation mechanisms towards the centre of the stage, accelerating as they approach the protagonist, they are redirected to the audience by her calmly extended hands and more and more joined together. The light leather softly covers the seats, armrests, legs, arms and finally the bodies of those present, breathing sweetly like a veil, softly creaking in bitter oud. For hours, Davana changles the scenery with the notes of her heart, but she makes the threads thinner, the drops smaller, the fog lighter, before it slowly disappears into the stage floor after about 5-6 hours (depending on the temperature and size of the hall and the audience). Now a fade-out of several hours begins, in which the woods dry slowly, the fruits wither into light sweetness, tempered by the spicy bitter Oud, which performs a slow bone dance in the still damp earth of the stage center, while the light of the remaining spots goes out to it.
A stage play of the Moderat-Sillage-Ensemble for all seasons. Noble, warm, mysterious, multi-layered.
(With thanks to Yukiko who sent me this fragrance in exchange)
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