Alex Rigg and Florencia Garcia Chafuen are going on a little promenade.
They slip so gracefully, tentatively at first, through the streets of Savigliano, Alex past a group of schoolkids playing tug of war outside their classroom (to the obvious delight of the children and teachers) and meander down side streets, elegantly causing chaos wherever they roam. A dead pigeon, covered in maggots, is given a makeshift shrine by Alex, who proffers it to some people as an offering, of sorts. Decay amid the sunshine.A memento mori.
They cry out, alluding to the transgressions of man, never sated, in Blake’s poetry, and these small acts of civil disobedience are really beginning to annoy some people. Florencia literally stops traffic at one stage, and the woman in the car looks furious. This was not supposed to be part of her routine, dealing with oddball performance artists who think they can stop her daily journey.
It’s a beautiful, otherwordly performance, kicking out against the obvious consumerism of the sleepy town, in which time seems to have hit the pause button during the day. Their sprinkle of unearthly dust is what makes life magical, at least for a little while. Well, ten minutes, to be precise.