This project is a collaboration with a choreographer Son of Mom, who created the W3 performance, his graduation work at SNDO Amsterdam.
Performed at the following venues:
● March 31-April 1&2 2016 – Veem House of Performance, Amsterdam
● April 14 2016 – Uferstudios, Berlin

For this project Alya transformed her concept of a surface and a slit (Red and Empty project). At the end of the performance the textiles, which seem to be performance clothing, are removed and installed in space, they turn back to their basic shape: a rectangle and a slit.

Alya Hessy, W3, 2016, Veem House of Performance Amsterdam

Screenshot of the video documentation

Installation at Veem House of Performance

She was spinning around
In the egg-shaped space
Defined by her body movements.
Her head was turning left and right in a swaying circular motion.
A thin thread connected her mouth to the space close to her.
There was nothing else,
But her, shaping the space around herself into a cocoon.
The line of pure silk started with her desire of seclusion
And would end only when she is content
And falls still
Ready for her transformation.

The silk threads were stretched tightly next to each other.
The woman threaded them one by one through the heddles of her weaving loom.
This was the warp.
One thousand thin lines forming a precarious surface.
She started weaving.
Every other thread was lifted now
Making room for another thread to pass through.
This was the weft.
Over and under.
The weft was going through the warp.
Over and under.
A tight surface was being formed. Precise and methodical.
Over and under.
There was something soothing about it. Something to hold on to.
A system. A network. Fabric.
They say, the warp is what is given in life and the weft is what happens in it.

I am holding a piece of silk fabric in front of me.
It is almost transparent.
I can see through it, though it colours my vision and slightly blurs it.
It is almost weightless.
As I sigh, it sways gently away, moved by the air from my longs.
It is perfect
With its structure of threads going over and under
And over and under again.
There is no space for me here.
I am looking at its perfection, mesmerised and silent.
I am looking at its plain surface and feel overwhelmed.
I am looking at it and wonder, is there a way for me to enter?
I grab the scissors and cut a line through the surface.
It splits in two and I can see the space in between.

(text written and performed by Alya for W3)