Cursed and Crossed

In a chiaroscuro of light and shadow, nylon threads stretched taut divide the stage. At the centre, a pool of milky liquid draws in those who approach it. Five silhouettes crawl and undulate, and gradually a pack of hybrid creatures takes shape. The music acts like a shockwave. The effects of the growling – a kind of snarl typical of heavy metal – of distorted guitar and piano create a dense sonic texture that penetrates flesh and bone, disrupting movements. In Cursed and Crossed, Charly Ange Fogaroli evokes the imagery of horror films and subcultures to place the figure of the monster under the microscope. Not as a threat, but as a body that defies societal norms: too weird, too intense, impossible to tame. This creation, located somewhere between a work of choreography, music and visions of fantasy, exposes the horrific and turns it into a disturbing instrument of power.