Zu Dritt
(2021)

THREE PERFORMANCES AT THE SAME TIME
by Lilian Frei
"A permeable house," says Ursula's voice, knitting fine openings like spider webs. Words fall through all the cracks.
Black shoes swing in Gisela's hand and are later carried elegantly through four floors.
The thin, long staff hangs elegantly between Judith's delicate fingers. She uses it to space-walk through the afternoon with equal balance.
"Nothing specific in mind" voice It has different rooms, on four floors and creaking stairs.The thread that builds its nest through the cracks takes shape in three hours."How permeable everything is" Voice Gaining time, I think. The house serves bread. In three hours there will be soup. "Doing something for fun" Voice
Serving black shoes through all the floors and placed next to glasses turning to the table silently taking over other people's cupboards a concentrated putting away and clearing out
Kitchen scents.The woman sings rather than complains, aiming her wand at space and time.The spinner sits on the floor and speaks syllables that fall through the room like meshes. "I wonder where this is all leading?" Voice.
Humming from above.Applying books like food - balanced!Fabulous how the measurer goes through all the rooms and cuts people to the quick. Opening and closing the book.
"You can hear the faces of the house when you listen" Voice Upstairs in the house there is a whimper - what is SHE doing?"Maybe we plan ourselves in small things and forget the moment" Voice simultaneous and permeable
Caressing the room with a wide view savoring the inclined plane aiming along the beam and stretching the room without hesitation measuring time in minutes
Three in the room. - feel the narrowness. My eye flees. Where is she going? Outside space Measurements in the alley.
Church bells ring. It's Saturday 6 pm
Letting the meter fall weightlessly exploring the everyday creating soundscapes
"What goes through your head with a thread like this?" Voice
Put your head in the box, your body and stay in it. The plastic coat suits her! A pause.Putting her head away.
The guests come and go. They stay in the room. A simultaneous existence.Being together.Looking a story in the face while listening.
"Sometimes there is no forwards or backwards" voice
Leaning into the matter.Needles lie at her side like batons. Stuffing thread into the crack.A spinner.Staying on the thread and keeping her composure.
"That there's still hope here?" Voice. It is 7 pm. The soup is being served.