A workshop-performance within the frame of 'Crisis What Crisis' performance festival in Budapest. Concept by Imre Bokányi and Zsófia Jauernik, participants: Bernadett Csontos, Balázs Kellner, Eszter Márkus, Jessica Lea Miley, Tamás Pál.

Sun, wind and rain, help not in vain, man's race to gain
A workshop-performance within the frame of 'Crisis What Crisis' performance festival
Concept, workshop-leaders: Imre Bokányi, Zsófia Jauernik
Participants: Bernadett Csontos, Balázs Kellner, Eszter Márkus, Jessica Lea Miley, Tamás Pál
Text: Imre Madách, Nike
June 2, 2018.

PATYOLAT, Budapest


The attempt to touch the crisis is poignant. Let’s deconstruct the framed order with the elemental effect of tactile perception, in order to model theories in space.

1. Arrive to the base.
2. Name your place.
3. Pass your excess over. Get the export. Make trade.
4. Get high. Build relevance.
5. Pay attention. Orbit.
6. Try dekadence. Leaving, breaking.
7. Return back. Rebuild the impossible.

Our mission is what drives us to do everything possible to expand human potential. Building a creative and diverse global team. See how proudly whirls your planet. Earth is a place where everyone is an explorer. We bring together diverse perspectives to share knowledge. Here move swift forms that rise and fade again. Affinity, reaction, interact. And matter will be forced to do my will. Play amid the dust. To be competitive, but always collaborative and welcoming. To include different perspectives, because teams win when everyone contributes. To take a 'next play' attitude to failure, and apply what we've learned instantly. Such idle dreams allure me now no more. Creativity fuels our culture. With our open and global mindset, we're constantly curious about the world.

We take action.

Sun, wind and rain, help not in vain, man’s race to gain.

To achieve the impossible, we have to rethink the fundamentals.
When man of old appeared upon the earth, He found a larder stocked with plenteous food;
He needed but to stretch his hand and take, To satisfy his every want and use.
He thus consumed unthinkingly, apace, As maggots in a cheese, and warm and fed,
Had time to seek adventure, poesy, In wondrous visions of his idle thought.
But when the final morsel now we reach, We must be sparing, since we long have known
The cheese is nearly spent and we must starve.

We clawed, we chained our hearts in vain. We jumped never asking why. Nothing compares. Nothing compares.

Link to the soundperformance: https://soundcloud.com/imi-bok-nyi/madach-meets-nike

 

Photo: Krisztina Bilák