A dark place. Bluish glares. Two bodies hanging to the sound of an engine or a drop. Two ghosts taking shape under a torch light, surrounded by the neon frost, on the ray of a blue box. Gruppo Nanou comes from Ravenna and is part of a youth group who draws plays with bodies, sound, paths and stops, yet far away from dance and theatre, in a blurry place made of wait, labyrinth like indecision, oppression. This research has been represented in Santarcangelo and Alfonsine with the meaningful name “Tracce verso il nulla” […] It takes shape through partly naked bodies stretched to the spasm, through looks and contortions, animal screams and stealthy footsteps, in an indifferent search that turns time into space and space into time. A search sliding from a dimension to another romantically looking for the place. A generational frame showing a dropout power made of waiting and outbursts towards the explosion, towards the regret for an impossible mathematic.
Massimo Marino – Corriere della Sera

A perceptive horizon where any narrative structure is expulsed, where it is the senses –sight, hearing, prossemic (and then, touch)- that draw the action, till they reach the spectator‘s corresponding chords[…] In Traces to Nowhere the eroticism articulates as a constant tension, a whole of trajectories and gestures that aim to an encounter -without actually centering it: the two bodies-characters graze themselves at most, sometimes even disturbing themselves, without ever building an harmony, like two gone mad-atoms sharing the same orbit.
[…] It all develops inside a perpetual-twilight setting, a twilight that’s broken only by the concentric traces of a fluctuating light bulb […] the zero grade of the vision is a blasted world, kind of a post-Beckett scene where, instead of woebegone ghosts of humans waiting for the death, we find vital bodies engaged in a dance on the present time ruins.
Graziano Graziani – La Differenza

The two dancers mark paths on the white stage’s floor; beginningless and endless paths in a territory that’s split between him, constructing ever-changing perimeters, and her, lost inside the transparent, rough-edged labyrinth she bounces in, with no possibility of getting out. Our look finds no hold and wanders looking for something, oriented by those bodies and those footsteps towards an emptiness that has no remedy. Darkness. Hardly enlighten by a torch that turns around, on and on, or blocked by pale neon fixed on the ceiling.
Serena Terranova – Altrevelocità