It’s 1:30 at night and our woman just got home.
She lies down and dreams of Orpheus.
She wakes up and sits. She considers the dailiness around her, that which has been there for years and will be there for more.
She stands and decides to take a different exit.
She follows the red path behind her house that runs through the polders.
She hears a bell toll,
a low bell from across the polders and she thinks:
‘this is how it should be’.
She’s happy to be alive, in spite of the bleak everydayness of her existence,
and she catches a glimpse of her old dreams; the sky opens and closes itself.
A woman. She dreams, is in her house and goes out.
She lies, sits, stands and again in reverse.
Nothing spectacular happens.
In ‘and somewhere inbetween’ everything has come to a halt, there is no pressure,
it’s like a Japanese ink drawing on paper, a muted landscape with one figure in the distance.
It’s the small tragedy that unites us: to understand how insignificant we are, and also how lonely when we say to ourselves: “your questions are too small”.
The recorded voices belong to Cecilia Arditto, Annet Huisman and
soprano Jennifer van der Hart.