Not really knowing what they are supposed to do; (sit or stand, silence or whispers, beer or nothing), the audience has slowly piled up in the exiguous space. As always when anything seems remotely staged, a sense of solemnity floats in the air. You look around, your gentle smile betrays satisfaction. You look around the room and you wonder why it feels so familiar.
Your distracted gaze gets caught by a film which is being projected on the wall. It reminds you of an early film by Steve McQueen. Somewhere on a Caribbean beach, random people perform random tasks, the image is slightly burnt, like the skin of its protagonists. You wonder why this succession of images has any value. Is it because their actions seem so perfectly aimless? You enjoy the trees moving in slow motion in the background. Palm trees sort of always make you happy.