A performance in a square of light, a surface echoing the competition carpet. A melancholy memory of a carpet that no longer exists, a carpet symbolizing constraints. The body enters this restricted space and measures it to the tempo of a metronome. Repetitive movements follow, until the effort is felt. A live projection is added in the background, produced with two cameras placed in the diagonals of the square, reproducing the jurors' point of view. Video archives footage of training scenes then scrolls past, showing a body forced into contortions by relentless trainers.
It's a questioning several aspects of rhythmic gymnastics, a sport I practiced for years, and whose training methods are being questioned by the medical world.
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