Arts
Domestic Hostile. A worried fiction (Romanian) Authors: Anamaria Pravicencu & V. Leac, 2020 A huit clos in the head of a unique character, a confined space for a possible couple during the long days of the first pandemic lock-down of 2020. The house, the domestic space in which we were constrained to isolation against danger, is throwing us in psychic depths. The place of calmness, silence, and relaxation have become a hostile territory, a stage for grave scenes. With the prolonged confinement and the growing anxiety, the smallest gestures can engage unmanageable angst. The domestic life become extremely fragile, the families and the couples are crumbling. "Domestic Hostile" explores a small territory of something we called “domestic hostility” – a drama inside an apartment where we try to survive and stay sane. Sound piece composed exclusively online, a collaboration between a sound artist coming from the contemporary arts and a poet interested in film. Supported by Fundația9 of Bucharest in the frame of Artists Rooms program, May 2020. * Anamaria Pravicencu studied drawing and sculpture, with an interest for sound installation. Since 2006 she’s in charge with the artistic direction of Jumătatea plină, promoting sonic and musical experiment (Sâmbăta sonoră) through constant and distinct programs. She is the curator of the SEMI SILENT portfolio and she keeps producing sound work. V. Leac lives and works between Arad and Bucharest. Published poetry : Seymour: sonată pentru cornet de hârtie, Vinea Publishing (2005, 2006, 2013); Dicționar de vise, Cartea Românească Publishing, 2006; Lucian, CDPL, 2009; Toți sunt îngrijorați, TracusArte Publishing, Collection NEO, 2010, 2015; Unchiul este încântat, Charmides Publishing, 2013. Founding member of the literary collective Celebrul animal and of the magazine Ca și Cum. Founder of MOI in Timișoara in 2012, together with Bianca Baila; curator of W.A.D. Arad, 2014. Films: 2014, The Village Drones (I); 2015, The Village Drones (II); Trasee descriptive cu intrus. His latest volume, Monoideal, published by Nemira in 2018, was granted the Radio România Cultural Award for Poetry. Idea, text, & voice: V.Leac Recordings, dramaturgy, & composition: Anamaria Pravicencu Violin: Manja Ristić Mixing: Mara Mărăcinescu Transcript (EN) Door opening and closing. Key in the lock. Violin. Water dripping. I don’t see anything through the window. I don’t see anything through the window. Now I see that in the light you have a mustache. I don’t see anything through the window. Shut up and listen! If this seems common, it doesn’t mean that you’ll manage. The unforeseeable exhausts you. I don’t see anything through the window. Washing machine. Shut up and listen! If this seems common, it doesn’t mean that you’ll manage. The unforeseeable exhausts you. I dreamt that I was teaching Chemistry to a class of ice children. I was dying of cold while walking down the rows. Violin. Yes, you have only symbols, bullshit and analytics in that head of yours. I don’t know what you would do without. Whatever, I better stop. Violin. The dog disappeared again. Happiness? We all played with that ball. Do you know how do the blind express ecstasy? Machinery noise. Shut up and listen! Shut up and listen! If this seems common, it doesn’t mean that you’ll manage. If this seems common, it doesn’t mean that you’ll manage. The unforeseeable exhausts you. The unforeseeable exhausts you. Machinery noise. I dreamt that I was teaching Chemistry to a class of ice children. I was dying of cold while walking down the rows. Violin percussion. Yes, you have only symbols, bullshit and analytics in that head of yours. I don’t know what you would do without. Whatever, I better stop. Happiness? We all played with that ball. Do you know how the blind express ecstasy? In order to learn more, we need to enter a pig’s life.