And we hear quiet whispering. "what's on his playlist?" He looses himself to the dance and even though we look a bit stiff in the public, we join him in the dance in our mind. While he dances colors starts to burst of him. Not in a metaphorical way but all of sudden there are colors everywhere. It’s mostly on his shirt but also at the walls and the floor. In the middle of the dance his earplugs falls out, but this doesn't stop him or slow him down. He just throw them on the floor, he doesn't need it anymore. The music must be inside of him. All of a sudden he stops. The sweat is dripping and he tells us that there is no present. There is only a past and a future. The thing in between is a process that creates a bridge directly from the past to the present. He repeatedly tells us "there is no present" until we get it. We are always told to live in the present. But what does that mean in this context if there are not any present? They are not necessarily contradictions. Maybe we can look at this as we are in a constant process; there is no stop or moment that we can call the present. When we try to reflect on a moment it is already in the past and we are now in what at the time was the future heading for the next. It is a play with the concept of time. So maybe there is no such thing as a present, but I love how he dances in the process. Ida Grimsgaard « Memories (in the forest) » Ida's performance is called Memories (in the forest). What can we expect from this title? In her description she says that there is a storm inside of her. We will soon see how and why. Out of nothing we hear rolling wheels and in an impressive speed she comes out on something in between shoes and roller blades. Her pink dress is lighting up the room. This could have been a scene from a dancing film from the 80's if it had not been for the mask she is wearing. A huge mask covered with wooden glue gives us an indication of her eyes and mouth.