In Nicht Weinen (Don’t Cry), two performers have lost their points of reference. The pair, a man and a woman, move through a cartoonesque landscape created and operated with the help of a live video editor, cameras, microphones and a screen. The set-up is unstable, an unreliable terrain suffused with gray areas. The script is their verbal archive, a repository of dialogues, stories, spoken thoughts, memories and physical experiences.
By speaking, they try to maintain some sense of continuity and structure.
States of being become crucial: hunger, thirst, conflict, temperature, fluids. On what should they base their actions? Do the old rules still apply? Who is right? Do they have adequate supplies? Enough light?
