‘Die Tanzerin Palucca is leaping free through the forest, Marinetti’s feet can be seen below the shrubs, Emmy Henning’s ‘Dancer’ is strangling us to death, Hugo Ball can’t stop screaming at us from behind the trees: ‘Why must we restrict ourselves to minimalism?!!!’

With playful irreverence for these mythologies, and the tradition of a certain past, we broke down the fourth wall a long time ago. We are not illusionists. We are searching through the rubble for possibility. What impedes individual and collective expression? Is there freedom within form? Can we utilize structure to apply clarity to chaos with sincerity?