The second chapter of Overlook Hotel, told by Stefano Tomassini on Cordelia (Teatro e Critica): visions, apparitions, ghosts in transit, sounds that surface and break through, sheets and costumes passing from body to body like sand in an hourglass.

Visions, apparitions, ghosts in transit, sounds that surface and break through, sheets and costumes passing from body to body like sand in an hourglass. It's presented as a "choreographic installation," but nothing here stays still, nor invites you to. The environment that continually forms and renews itself feels like a transit station, a covered bridge joining two shores, a resting place at the crossing of two roads: the mezzanine between earth and sky. goldroom by gruppo nanou for the Fuori Programma Festival is a place of pause and departure, an evident "exploration of time as unstable matter." And it's a fulfilment — the idea, arrived at from the second performance in the Sala Oceano Indiano, of opening the access door at the back of the stage as well. To free the passage (and the energies), the flow that is opened and handed over to those attending, who may choose a distracted, intermittent temporality. Always, in any case, outside the dynamics of the stage, with its rituals and symmetries. Marco Valerio Amico and Rhuena Bracci, who both dance in a thousand apparitions (and unexpected disappearances) under punishing winter coats or inside variety-show jackets with a thousand fringes, bring to full completion what was previously glimpsed in the Ubu Award–winning redrum. Now, though, in this entirely musical space, Bruno Dorella prepares (and accompanies live) one of the most beautiful playlists ever (the performance can run over two hours). Andrea Dionisi roams wildly among elfin figures and haunted wanderers, fussing with a pair of devilish ceremonial shoes; Marina Bertoni immerses herself and resurfaces among metres of fabric unrolled on the floor, in a continuous, seductive act of catching our eye, confounding our preyed-upon gaze. The disturbance is total, the raging of these ghosts harmless. Just as in the black-and-white of the "video images projected onto cathode-ray tube monitors, where live footage and recorded material coexist." As beneath the fabric that suddenly fans out to cover everything, here everything, even only in potential, is gold.