The stage is drenched in darkness. You can only see the feet of the protagonist and her lover, who move, like Thanatos and Eros, in a graceful pas-de-deux of a passionate sexual encounter. The naked, vulnerable feet move together as if they were dancing the pirouettes of love, or even death, which seem to be two faces of the same Janus-head.
An evening at the theatre inspires Krisha Kops to write of the dance of love and death that pervades the universe.
