'We're developing a multitouch screen—a bit like an iPhone but much bigger. I'm developing a programme, an application, that is currently working on a small-scale prototype, where we can zoom in and manipulate objects on the screen. Then we'll make it to a larger scale. And then with this theme of folie a deux [a madness shared by two], the underlying idea for the touchscreen is to show "impossible" things and how in the mind you can develop paths that are completely wrong.'Sideshow interviews Sebastien Valade and Rachel Pollard of Green Eyed Zero about remotely operating their sound and tech cues while performing on stage, the place of technology in their work, and their plans for a new show.
Ah, circus theatre! The age-old dilemma of how to combine two opposing forces: the drive from ‘theatre’ to present characters telling stories that reach us through memory and imagination (evoking ‘there’ and ‘then’), and the drive from ‘circus’ to be in the here and now, presenting bodies in space that explore the relationship between air and ground, or between body and body, or between body and object.
Circus has always understood the appeal of the mechanical process. It's intrinsic to the artform at close examination, but just in the course of LIMF10 ideas in this line have taken more explicit form in The Mill (a giant, human-powered factory) and Öper Öpis (an unstable, tilting stage). 
Gosh, I wouldn't have wanted to be the man, just across the aisle from me, who got pulled up on stage and held there for the production's entire second half. Less an audience participant than an extra, improvised cast member, he wins Best in Show: the perfect victim in displaying just the right levels of resistance and compliance, and, crucially, someone who very clearly did not want to be on stage. 
There is a stone. A deep, obsidian black, it is wrapped in white cloth, held in a square of light, until a man comes to unwrap it. It is not something he's found, but something he has been drawn back to, a token of his past that he swallows and carries like the memory of a sin. 
Extending roughly from the what if premise of what if Layla had known her Saudi Arabian father and grew up under different cultural conditions, the piece is less committed to a thorough exploration of that scenario than a strategy of dissonance and subversion that unseats any single narrative before it can dig in.
Bring on the gallows! A trapdoor in the floor is thrown back and the gallows carried in, fixed in place over a tank of water, and strung with a perforated metal box that contains two animate badger skulls (brothers). 
With the same director, same performers, and some of the same tricks, Canto nonetheless distinguishes itself from NoFit State's tabú as a warmer and wittier production—thrown together with greater haste yet more robust in the face of its own weaknesses; diffuse and open-ended but content to be so.
Sometimes it seems there's scarcely a juggler who's not deeply interested in mathematics and the sizeable body of music that closely abuts it. Whether it's Bach or barcodes or microtones, jugglers can be relied on to reach far outside the usual circus repertoire of tango and Yann Tiersen—and, in the nerdiest instances, to let that music score the technical aspects of their work. 
