State Like Sleep

Four characters, four screens. The audience immersed, as stupefied as in a shopping mall electronics shop. Your attention flickers, trying to take it all in, not miss crucial details. The work seems unlimited in all directions, and it’s dazzlingly overwhelming. But you adjust to the overload. You realize the sound design is gently guiding your attention from screen to screen. You can make your own interpretations, even your own edit, your own film. So you discover moments that seem like outtakes: delightfully unexpected, notable non-incidents in the character’s lives that would usually be off-screen. But here, there is no off-screen.