If you wait, sooner or later you’ll believe you are waiting for someone.

Samuel Beckett

Three hundred deckchairs are arranged at the centre of the large square of Fabbrica del Vapore, facing the “cathedral”, a long early twentieth-century industrial archaeology building. People take their seats a few minutes before midnight. The “cathedral” is lit up just enough to highlight its bare structures. The waiting begins in silence – it is a collective wait, that invites the audience to stay silent. Only under this condition can you listen to the gentle, continuous song sung by a female voice. A glow appears after a while and you see the silhouette of a luminous star slowly rising from behind the “cathedral”.

An intense light now rises on the marble surface of the buildings in the background, an artificial sun that recalls the beauty of a natural event. It slowly moves on the vertical wall, until it slips out of the building, getting lost in the darkness of the sky.

The time of waiting is the main subject of this show: a pedagogical waiting, which teaches to perceive time, to become aware of it. The protagonist is also an upside-down sun that rises at midnight and does not come from behind the buildings, but from the front of their façades, and that does not illuminate the sky, but goes out in its darkness instead. Yet dawn, with its waiting ritual, is always – even on the concrete of a square – the positive event of a beginning that repeats itself every day.