“… They are heroes and heroines, according to the program, but at the same time they are losers or Amazons who do not win. Sometimes the dance takes on almost autistic traits, they don’t even need the computer as an object anymore, these ‘nerds’, those beings addicted to information and hacker technology, these not at all unsympathetic freaks, they have the screen in front of their eyes, the keyboard in their heads and the wiping technique determines their emotional life. Because this can be perceived again and again in dancing moments. There they are, moments of rapprochement, relics of protesting and resistant rap, quotations of breakdance made docile by protest on the streets in the sacred halls of dance theaters, or with elements of moonwalking memories of the child in a man named Jackson, who wanted to escape the future by virtue of surgical arts. And then these danced fictions come closer and closer to us, these cosmic worlds have been spinning for a long time and we spin along with them and are just about to go crazy. There are no fictions that do not have their origins in history and the present.

And just as Cindy Hammer knows how to use the vast space of the Festspielhaus with her choreographic creations with amazing skill and artistry, she is also able to let her figures of the future act in almost chamber-play-like moments as lonely people, to whom we gladly give our sympathies. In the sometimes overflowing monologues, however, it is above all the cues that set one’s own imagination and one’s own journeys into the dreamed or feared future in motion, just as there is a great air of freedom hovering over this production by the go plastic company. In this freedom there is then also room for absurdities like that of the exalted woman and her power over the distribution of the purifying mineral water. Or that woman who, at the end, lies down in the refrigerator compartment in order to set off on her journey into the vestibule of nothingness with the provisions of fresh, cracked eggs, which would then, after all, be an expression of hope in a deeper sense, because of the eggs as a symbol of life, provided they are not fried. With a wink, of course, otherwise it would not be a piece by Cindy Hammer…”