On the bottom of the ocean, in the darkness of the marsh under the canopy of the forest and just below our eyesight, there’s life that we tend to overlook. Sottobosco is a genre of painting that emerged in Europe in the middle of the XVII century, not long after the Renaissance taught humans to look up in the sky and strive for higher goals.

In these paintings, artists portrayed true-to-life forest floors where things crawl, slither, decay and wither and are magnificent and vibrant in their being. Sottobosco, like many countermovements, does the exact opposite for these same goals. The painters urge us to look down where the true rebirth happens – in the hummus of the Earth.

Italian performer and author Chiara Bersani is definitely bringing your eyesight down. We see her wriggle out of a wheelchair onto the ground covered with springy marshmallows. We hear the ocean roaring, the lights on the stage are imitating a lighthouse, a question arises: where does life come from? And more importantly, how come we have a hierarchy of life forms and some of them are placed above others?

Bersani is joined by able-bodied dancer Elena Sgarbossa and the difference between the two bodies is enormously powerful. Bersani’s body is tiny and flattened to the ground while Elena is standing upright, facing a wall. Elena’s presence on stage creates a conventional reference point. Because she’s standing and turned away from the audience, her line of sight is uninterrupted by what’s happening beneath it. However, her body starts reacting to the life below. It’s dragging itself downwards, contorting into uncomfortable positions. It’s reacting to Bersani’s struggle on the ground, despite the initial reluctance of her vision to look down.

Eventually, both bodies are crawling, pushing downwards, changing shapes and looking for the only meaningful thing one could hope for on this planet – connection. I say ‘hope for’, but Bersani would most likely contradict me by saying that connection is inescapable, it’s there before you acknowledge it with your mind. Connection is embodied.

“Connection is inescapable, it’s there before you acknowledge it with your mind. Connection is embodied.”

The two women embrace each other, Sgarbossa is holding the bundled-up body of Bersani. One can stand and the other can see, both enriched by their connection. This happens half an hour into the performance, when the smell of marshmallows has filled the hall and their sweetness amplifies every moment.

© Alice Brazzit

However, their connection is not an enclosed family unit, understood only by those who know the script. The performers open up the stage to the audience by teaching them sign language that seemingly appeared and created itself in their connection. They turn to the audience and make tender movements with their hands, waiting for an answer from the audience. Two men in highly motorized wheelchairs and a woman with a limp make their way onto the stage from the audience.

Some people like me, who don’t have an obvious disability, shyly refrain from answering, giving room to those who need the space more, to whom I haven’t been actively paying attention. There’s no shame in that, just humble understanding. In the end I do reply, turning my finger around and pushing it against my lips. I want to be part of this moment and this mellow position close to the ground, close to mother Earth, a society I’d like to be a part of.

“Bersani isn’t there to shame our lack of perspective, she’s there to share. Cleverly, she envisions giving space without removing ourselves from it.”

Bersani implores our minds to explore our bodies in relation to space. Her methods are slow and small, there aren’t any grand gestures or exploding passions. And yet, at two key moments of the performance the heart opens and tears stream down the cheeks. This is activism at its most powerful: how else do we question the relations of power, how else do we undo the hierarchy of life if not by showing an example? Bersani isn’t there to shame our lack of perspective, she’s there to share. Cleverly, she envisions giving space without removing ourselves from it.