I’m like two shadows. Not here and not there. Like a wave in the sea.
Once it spits me over there, then there again.

GREEN GREEN GRASS OF HOME reports about homeland and loss of homeland. Three dancers and a musician become narrators who move in a constantly changing setting of realities. They give their voice to the stories of people who have been asked about their homeland.

With their bodies they go through their fractures and contradictions and set to music the question of why the concept of homeland is experiencing such a boom. Do we want to finally have our peace in a world with seemingly unlimited possibilities and know where we belong and who we are? Does a manageable space help us in which we know our way around and to which we feel we belong?

Between mountain village, global concepts of life, esape, language dilemma, traditions and the need for belonging, the realities of the interviewees move, which are the starting point for a physical, musical and picture-rich dance theatre evening.

Sometimes the performers appear as a dance group that waves in time with ¾, sometimes as a human loop station and sometimes as constructors of complex spaces. They focus on the human being and establish new artistic interpretations of what charges the concept of home with meaning.

What is there that triggers this sense of home? That’s what you’re used to seeing, the mountains are the same, the meadows are just as green as they were 20 years ago. The feeling that the whole thing will still be there when you are no longer there.