It is a suspended space-time that of redrum: it has no beginning and no end, it welcomes the audience into a void whose edges are continuously altered.

It is a suspended space-time that of redrum: it has no beginning and no end, it welcomes the audience into a void whose margins are continuously altered.
What works, in the new work of group nanou, is not only the quality of the movement, precise and free at the same time. It is also the authenticity of the exploration of the possibilities that can arise from the relationship between bodies, lights, sound and space, in a discovery that is renewed with each performance: nothing new for the company of Marco Valerio Amico and Rhuena Bracci, which has just celebrated its 20th anniversary and which received (precisely with redrum) the Ubu prize for best dance performance. It is perhaps precisely because of this continuity that some aspects, taken here to their (not extreme) consequences, are impeccable in their spontaneity.

The title quotes one of the best-known scenes from The Shining: redrum stands for murder in reverse, in a reversal of the direction of reading and perhaps also, here, of the conventional rules of dance enjoyment. The Overlook Hotel atmosphere translates, in nanou's conception, into an unreal world in which anything is possible, a suspended space inhabited by visions and memories of the imaginary.

The relationship with the specificities of the places (the red velvets of the Sala Corelli of the Teatro Alighieri in Ravenna, the cold austerity of the deconsecrated church of San Bonaventura in Bassano; the industrial simplicity of BASE in Milan, to mention some of the stages covered so far by the project) radically transforms the performance (or rather, the performative installation, as the group defines it) enriching it and depriving it of levels of meaning: thus, the contradictions and potentialities of a research that wants to deny the canonical public-stage relationship emerge. In nullifying the centrality of the perspective point of view, an attempt is thus made, for example, to abolish the assailation implicit in the spatial structure of the "room": the ridotto of a theater, an industrial nave or the apse with which an ecclesiastical hall concludes, spaces that are "neutral" and yet often conditioned by the constraints posed by their theatricalization (the presence of a ring indicating the presence of a "stage" or a telescopic staircase suggesting there may be an audience). The devices that operate this negation are first and foremost the movements of the dancers. The choreographies cut the space with crossings and geometries that deny the theatrical front. The performers approach the audience without delay, insinuate themselves into spaces hidden in the proximity of walls, in the shadow of a pillar, in the suspension of a shelf, in the spatiality of a side aisle, making them visible: even these remnants can become, reimposed with movement, shadow and light, scenic centralities.

The audience's gaze is thus continuously shifted and surprised. The lights mark diagonals and privileged fires: they play with colors and shadows, as usual in nanou's research, and are moved manually by Marco Valerio Amico, in an act that participates in real time in the transformation and evolution of the performance.

Another aspect in which nanou's signature is easily recognized are the costumes (designed by Rhuena Bracci): comfortable and sporty garments are the base on which lace bodices, animal tails, pleated skirts, embroidered blouses, and silk vests are added.

The figures of the performers thus take on different exteriors and roles, evoking familiar yet alien figures: a balloon tucked under the hood of a sweatshirt transforms the corporeality of a silhouette, or the hair in front of the face recalls imaginary characters from horror movies. An unlikely barman, moving in small steps, serves a cocktail to an unseen patron, and the unfolding of drapes of golden fabric resignifies the sobriety of emptiness.

To the music of Bruno Dorella, who plays live in some performances, Carolina Amoretti, Marina Bertoni, Rhuena Bracci, Andrea Dionisi, Agnese Gabrielli and Marco Maretti follow isolated yet common movement scores, alternating distance and proximity. The solo dimension meets the other dancers in diagonals and rotations, in variations on walks that decisively cut the space with different gaits and rhythms, with repetitions and returns of the geometries of movement that proceed sometimes in pairs or groups.

The spectator is informed, with an instruction sheet or by word of mouth (yes, during the performance one can even talk), of his freedom: not only can he enter when he wants and stop for as long as he wishes, but he can move around, sit on the floor or on the few chairs arranged on the perimeter of the space, approach the dancers and props according to his desire. In some performances he can even consume at the bar. Audience response changes from rerun to rerun, also influenced by the characters of the different tour venues. But awareness of the freedom of fruition changes, in each case, the quality of one's presence. If some spectators feel an amused complacency in placing themselves in the center of what - annulment of conventions aside - is perceived as a scene, fueling exchanges and variations on movement scores, the audience is more often than not reluctant to abandon the security of observation from the margins of the space: this should not be read as a failure of participatory intentions. Rather, it is the observation of an effective enjoyment of the contemplation of dance with an overall gaze, capable of embracing the unpredictability of events in its entirety and in detail.