"Salto Vitale"

Some sort of complicated, three-legged wooden 4-5 m high construction (with a scaffold-like appearance), with a chair and a lamp at its pinnacle, and surrounded by three metal/ wooden 1-2 m tall devices, is overlooking the grassy plateau from the center of a rope-defined circular area. In this bizarre scenery, the last show of the “AirWaterFire” street theater festival (go, ICR!) is about to unfold.

Magic floating in the air: the lit structures in the fading dusk, the upbeat (yet smooth) soundscape, plus the magnitude of the promises irradiating from the show’s title have all pumped up expectations of something way out of the ordinary.

9 p.m. sharp. It should begin: the change in musical phrase and volume confirm it. Almost inconspicuously, an average-looking guy (with an ordinary grocery bag dangling in his hand) walks in briskly and checks with quick, qualified gestures the three mechanisms: "couldn’t they do this before?!..." But then he climbs the stairs to what now appears to be his familiar post on the top of the central structure, sits down, and opens a book: in an extraordinary setting, the show started after all with what looked like any other day of this average person’s life.

[On the cover of the book: the sketch of a human body… after reading a little, the guy looks upwards.]

One by one, three characters, all dressed up in white – I’ll call them elementals (or genies, better?) – sort of “report” to the job.

[The genies come on bicycles… Although riding very fast – for now, everything seems to be about efficiency and performance – they nevertheless complete a circle before stopping at their designed places of work.]

Each time a genie arrives, our guy gets down and – without any ceremony or familiarity being involved, only with sharp, efficient movements – puts it to work at one of the nearby devices. After setting a fire and connecting the mechanism to the central structure with ropes, he climbs back to his post.

[Up there, he resumes reading and, from time to time, observes the working genie – as if checking if everything goes “by the book” – and… looks upwards. Inspiration?... Aspiration?...]

Back down, the disciplined, reliable elementals keep swaying, walking or pushing in the midst of flames and water, on which the mechanisms run. Their hard work is rather invisibly propagating through the intricate tangle of gears, levers and ropes – showing up whenever the change in altitude of the central structure’s top post becomes apparent to the distracted eye.

Only in his well progressing way up as a result of mastering the elements (applied knowledge…) our guy gets increasingly restless (bored?... uncontent?). He throws away the lamp (a light of scientific descent… with very limited range…), the book (a manifestation of what’s known…), looks upwards, looks bored, throws leaves from a bag, looks disconcerted, makes planes of paper and follows them down with his gaze, looks upwards, etc.

[Maybe he’s only contemplating his destination – but there’s “nothing” up there. Maybe the stars, beyond the clouds...]

In the meanwhile, one by one, the genies finish their work and depart. Again, on bi-cycle… (infinity with a saddle …or just the handy Dutch – Tuig are Dutch – way of getting around) And again, they complete a circle before exiting (otherwise very fast).

[The circle… Ouroboros. The insatiable Universal Dragon that is endlessly devouring his tail. At a "higher altitude”, “in the sky, in the clouds, the Substance of the Dragon is being scattered”. The circle becomes Plenitude, the summum of all possibilities: “the Father of all things is here”. Wholeness. The One.]

The ascent ends. Genies have left, the man has thrown everything he had (including his casual clothes: he’s left in a white overall…), and is standing on his tiny platform, 14 meters above the ground – all alone, enveloped by darkness.

[The audience feels like applauding: it’s like a pinnacle of human progress.]

This could have been the logical end of any fine show. But our man plunges into the night (“is he crazy?... thank god it’s only a show…”). At first with hands wide spread, he looks like embracing the uncharted void into which he’s jumped. Then, he hangs by his rope as if dead.

[The known – the Old – has to die, before any New commences. And a cycle is completed.]

What looks like a “salto mortale” transforms into “salto vitale” when our guy is reborn. “THIS IS THE BEGINNING” – the message he’s unfolding dangle the silent bells of Eternity.

[Back on hard ground, the jumper fraternizes with the (now) warm and caring elementals. Just as in the end of a show?...]