Panic room

production
In the middle of no man’s land, a house rises where two lovers meet. One is ill, fleeing the inevitable end. The other is a war correspondent, returning from a life-changing journey through a conflict zone. In a race against time, the past catches up with them, forcing them to confront each other to the very core. When the world bursts through the walls and the room proves too small for their conflict, they journey to the place where an immense loss lies buried deep beneath the burning earth. One thing is certain: in the deepest darkness, an even greater darkness lurks. Panic Room is an intimate, physical performance about dying and saying goodbye. When does the right to survive end, and the duty to others begin?

design
The final stage of dying, when the body can barely function, can be described as the clouded restlessness of the dying. The person can no longer articulate what they experience, but it has been likened to a setting sun, fading light, a journey through the night, until your silhouette dissolves into darkness — like a photograph fading in an instant. You may still register sensory impressions, but you have drifted so far that you arrive in a strange world. We designed a mental space without any solid ground: formless and directionless — in other words, ‘the unknown’.The space is a horror vacuum: it embodies the fear of emptiness and the human drive to fill it with images and meaning. Perceptions, dreams, desires, and memories appear and then fragment again. Around the space lies a thin veil, like a skin: soft, yet firm. Ultimately, the space proves not to be entirely formless or directionless. The performers move along its boundaries, with no escape; they are gently guided toward the end.