Exploring the Abyss: Humanity’s Dystopian Dance with Nature
Ah, the wonders of the modern world! Where else can one scroll through Facebook and stumble upon groups devoted to ghost-hunting… buildings? Yes, that’s right! Countless virtual communities are dedicated to those enchanting, so-called ‘lost places.’ You know the type: dilapidated houses, forlorn hotels, desolate shopping centers, and the occasional eerie hospital. You’d think they were filming the next blockbuster horror film, but alas – it’s just what we left behind. If only those walls could talk, they’d probably moan about the thick layer of dust cascading over everything like a particularly unhelpful winter frost.
But hold your horses, dear readers! Enter Claudia Bosse, a visionary who has somehow taken this ominous motif and channeled it into something oddly brilliant. In her performance piece, “HAUNTED LANDSCAPES or the breathing out of earth,” she doesn’t just present, she provokes. You’ve got landscapes that have undergone more trauma than your average reality TV contestant, and stages set in places as glamorous as a wasteland behind Vienna Central Station. Oh, the aesthetics of urban decay—why invest in a vacation to Bali when you can explore your neighborhood’s abandoned sites?
The Shift from Public to Protected Space
From the gritty outdoors to the more particularly protected realm of Hall G in Vienna’s Museum Quarter, Bosse invites the audience into a participatory dilemma. “Here, sit on the floor or grab a sandbag—good luck!” It’s a lovely invitation to explore; however, you’ll quickly realize it’s not all rainbows and sunshine. The only thing moving is the slow, dark undertow of our existential crisis. You’ve got six performers creating a living, breathing tableau right before your eyes, set against a backdrop of projected dystopian landscapes. Truly, who needs horror films when the reality of human progress is right here in front of you?
Breath of the Earth
The stage looks grim—dark lighting by Paul Grilj and eerie soundscapes crafted by Günther Auer do little to lighten the mood. Every so often, the muffled sounds of the dancers’ breathing pierce through the ambience, giving the haunting impression that the tormented earth itself is gasping for air. And let’s be honest, with all that we’re doing (and not doing) to the planet, it’s probably just about ready to heave a big sigh.
Now, let’s pivot back to Bosse’s voice, reminding us—sometimes too harshly—of the sins of humanity against our beloved blue planet. “What humanity is doing to the earth,” she says. But hang on a minute! Is that microphone on overload, or is it just us as an audience struggling to hear the discomforting truth over the theatrics? The stakes are raised as the dancers take cover under the carpet, creating a small earthquake under our feet, forcing us to react. Do we weather the storm, or do we simply scoot out the door? That’s right folks, talk about an emotional rollercoaster!
The Questions We Must Ask
This two-hour odyssey (a little drawn out, if you ask me) leaves us grappling with uncomfortable questions about our relationship with nature. Like your overly critical friend at a dinner party, it leaves no stone unturned when poking at open wounds. But fret not—Bosse isn’t here to lecture; she’s merely presenting a stark and unsettling state of the environment that desperately requires our immediate attention.
So, what’s the takeaway? Are we doomed to wander through the haunted landscapes of regrets, or can we be the change-makers this planet needs? If nothing else, Bosse’s performance serves as a loud wake-up call, urging us to reconsider humanity’s place in a world scarred yet resilient. Even if we’re just tossing around sandbags in a theatre—what a cruel irony it would be if that’s the peak of our interaction with what remains of our environment!
As we exit Hall G, remember: we’re not just spectators; we are part of this performance called life. And it might be time for a rewrite.
Countless Facebook groups are devoted to documenting the intrigue of lost places, which often carry a hauntingly beautiful narrative. Among the collection, you can find stunning photographs capturing the eerie stillness of abandoned houses, dilapidated hotels, desolate shopping centers, and forgotten hospitals. If one could overlook the thick layer of dust that blankets these structures, it could almost feel as though they were merely left behind moments ago, frozen in time. Even the remains of abandoned quarries and old mining works stand testament to a forgotten era, preserved for eternity. In her thought-provoking work “HAUNTED LANDSCAPES or the breathing out of earth,” artist Claudia Bosse reflects on environments that have suffered deep trauma, whether from human neglect or the fury of natural disasters. Over the past several years, she has utilized various public (un)places—such as the untamed fallow meadows of Seestadt Aspern on Vienna’s periphery and a wasteland nestled right behind the bustling Vienna Central Station—as her stage.
The piece has now transitioned from its raw public origins to the protected environment of Hall G within Vienna’s vibrant Museum Quarter. Here, the audience is encouraged to engage with the stage space in an immersive experience. Those fortunate enough may receive a small sandbag to prop against, while others find themselves seated directly on the ground. The dynamic forms created by the six performers, combined with the audience’s relative stillness, lead to a constantly evolving tableau of movement and stillness. Visual installations showcase haunting video projections of abandoned landscapes and active mining sites, where massive excavators and rumbling trucks once thrived. This juxtaposition of imagery and themes creates a predominantly dystopian atmosphere. Such a mood is intensified by the dim lighting direction courtesy of Paul Grilj alongside the somber soundscapes crafted by Günther Auer. At occasional moments, the strained breaths of the dancers pierce the silence, evoking the poignant sensation that our tormented earth is yearning for respite.
What humanity is doing to the earth
Claudia Bosse powerfully reminds her audience of humanity’s impact on the earth through various spoken sequences that sometimes become difficult to comprehend due to microphone overload. The earth, it seems, has begun to respond in kind—illustrated in a brilliantly crafted moment when the dancers creep beneath the dance carpet, making the entire floor undulate beneath them. This unexpected shift forces the audience to adapt, with some members appearing uncertain on how to react—should they endure this sensation or simply withdraw? The two-hour performance, stretching longer than it perhaps should, sparks a myriad of questions concerning our relationship with nature, probing at unhealed wounds, and conveying the urgent need for change. Rather than lecturing, Bosse seeks to present a commentary that reflects the current state of our environment, urging viewers to engage with the reality before them.
