Three Quarters of a Human

I repeat steps, sequences, and combinations. I create movements that never truly end. My body works, my thoughts count – one, two, three. Order calms me, and at the same time, it unsettles me.

In Three-Quarters of a Human, eight liberated bodies move through patterns, rows, columns, repetitions, canons, and pauses. Together, they inhabit a space of both structure and uncertainty — a geometry that holds and dissolves itself with every turn.

We persist in the waltz — the dance of peasants and nobles alike — democratically counting to three. One. Two. Three. We turn around the same thought: what would happen if we counted differently? But at the thought of four, we stumble, correct ourselves, and continue.

The work unfolds as a meditation on discipline and instinct, identity and belonging. Between symmetry and deviation, between the human and the animal, a question lingers:

Is a step ever just a step?
Is the waltz ever just a dance?
Is the body ever just a body?