I wrap myself in a blanket and try to escape my breath. My breath catches. A yawn. His breathing irritates me. I learn to breathe again. Panic. Breath gets stuck. I try to hold on to her breath. A sneeze. Breath catches in my throat. Pleasure. My breath is taken away. She crouches down, allowing her breath to settle. A sigh. I hold my breath because I don’t want to remember his smell. A snort. Breath on my neck. Her lips are white, and breath, perched upon them, swings its legs. Inhale. Exhale. A few desperate gasps for air. Breath. Breath. Exhale.

“inhale: exhale” is a visual theatre performance in which breath becomes an event – a sound, a movement, and a boundary between the living and its imitation.

Beside the body, there is a material. Something moves. Something resembles life. Something merely imitates it. At a time when life is increasingly subordinated to productivity and results, breath becomes an act of resistance. It becomes the only unmistakable sign of life – something that cannot be reproduced or fully controlled. At a time when the pace of the world is accelerating and the body is subjected to constant movement, breath becomes a boundary.

The performance explores materiality, voice, and the time between one inhale and the next exhale.