“Wasteland” was the first action I undertook with a consciously performative quality. After some dance rehearsals in Barcelona, it was finally performed in Gelida, near the vineyards of Sant Sadurní d’Anoia where cava, Catalonia’s signature sparkling wine, comes from. The sole witnesses were fellow psychoanalyst Toni Martí, Argentinian actress Sandra Rossi and Spanish photographer Carlos Lázaro, three beloved friends.
I started dancing with a white cotton rope that I used to measure the extension of my body, especially the limbs, and then compare it to those of my friends’, one of whom is an amputee, to stress the permanence of both loss and presence. Some moves allusive to shibari eventually bridged the initial action, which evolved to a seeming self-asphyxia. Body parts, freedom of movement, breathing – all three losses become one in the wasteland of death.
Photography by Carlos Lázaro González. Music by Scan X. A tribute to T. S. Eliot.