“Tell her”

“Sometimes, when the light dims and the shadows grow, it seems to me that I’ve been walking these streets for years and years without end, a whole century, that I know every tree, every puddle, every house, I walk with my eyes closed, I’m a street now, too, now empty, now full, now light, now dark, to find the street you have to become a street, yes, but is a street a street if you don’t walk it, is a candle a candle if it doesn’t light, is a knife a knife if it doesn’t cut?

Tell her I love you very much and I won’t do it again.”

A courier wanders around the modern city.

From one delivery to another, she roams snow-covered mountains and silver seas, in parks, squares and endless streets. She goes in and out of maisonettes, villas, apartment buildings. She makes deliveries to good and bad people, rude and kind, tortured and pampered – to people who seem ready to cry and others who seem not to know what crying is.

How much pain and how much loneliness can modern man bear?

Very often, she sits next to them and listens to them. Other times it is as if she is listening to the city itself. Every tree, every puddle, every house, every street, every door that opens seems to hold a new story.

Following his heroine on her races, entering houses and courtyards with her, listening to and recording the stories she listens, Christos Economou composes a mosaic of hundreds of micro-narratives – a multifaceted portrait of contemporary Athens, through the eyes of a worker in the modern delivery economy and applications.

But where does reality begin and fantasy end?

*The performance is in the greek language.