“An impressive example of how reality is born in art”.

Alfonso Becerra, Artezblai

"Let it dance alone"

Once upon a time, a world doomed to repeat itself decided to take the day off. There was nothing that prevented it from stopping, not rotating or rotating in reverse, around other suns, in new orbits or none at all, rising or falling without ado, without sense. There was nothing that prevented it from fulfilling any of the dreams that any other world doomed to repeat itself might have planned to fulfil on its first day off. But it wanted to go further, to become God, so it decided to continue rotating as always.

I don't know if this tale defines Gota a gota at all, perhaps not, or if it does, it's not my intention to mislead. Perhaps I should have begun by talking about the tension of a thread, of its behaviour when confronted with a light breeze, the possibility that something that ought not to happen might happen, perhaps quote Didi-Huberman (Sur le fil, On the thread): "The thread binds, chains and makes way. Or on the contrary, it slices through, sharpens, whets and breaks. The thread always hangs by a thread. That is its beauty -its beautiful risk- and its fragility" and next, narrate how the first thread appeared, say that it was horizontal and crossed the space from wall to wall, like the high wire of a tightrope artist, at neck height, invisible. In some way, begin by talking about the tension of that which is unseen, to be able to, somehow, get to the point.

There are people capable of doing it, of talking about a work of art even when it's theirs. Not me, I admit it. My relation with art is the same I have with the shadows of walls and the shapes of clouds. A relation that, at least for me, is inexplicable.

Perhaps that's what Gota a gota is, a cloud. A cloud that we leave on stage for a while, until it disappears. Or until it becomes rain. A cloud, a shadow, a stain, a sacred act and why not, God's quite mysterious, he doesn't exist but if you focus, he does. That what we artists draw from, along with bishops and shamans, the human capacity to see God beyond whether he exists or not.

In any case, it's absolutely inconsequential to the work what I think or don't think about it. It's there, self-reliant, independent and unoccupied with me. Without fiction, without interpretation, without narration, without a promising future... Without those things that fell away by themselves and we made no effort to keep. It's there, it doesn't matter whether it appeared all of a sudden or we were the ones who came upon it. It exists, and for that reason alone, we must share it, let it be seen, let it dance by itself.

El Canto de la Cabra is a landmark of independent Madrid theatre. The personal project of Elisa Gálvez and Juan Úbeda who founded the company in 1993 and kept it going as a theatre space for nearly 16 years.

Between 1993 and 2009, many creators, companies and audiences supported El Canto de la Cabra and shared with them a stage that was then rapidly disappearing from almost all public and private theatres.

Now, from the physical distance of the big city, they continue to create symbolic pieces that have been staged at numerous festivals and spaces, such as Tierra pisada, por donde se anda, camino (2011) and El quinto invierno (2014).

Before its Madrid show at the 37th Autumn Festival, Gota a gota premieres on 28 September at the TNT Festival in Terrassa (Barcelona).

Practical information

• Teatro Pradillo
• 22 & 23 November, 21.00

Video