Eight young female bodies are lying in a tent, breathing in unison and protecting the rifles under their mattresses, waiting for the next mission. Their nightmares during the night and the daydreams of army’s everyday life are experienced together.
Again and again the soldiers circle the multiple possibility of their own death. What dies in a person when they operate the trigger of a loaded gun? When does the dispossession of your own body begin?
In the fourth part of her tetralogy, Let The Blood Come Out To Show Them, writer Sivan Ben Yishai holds a ceremony of memory. Which visible and invisible traces does serving the so-called fatherland leave in a person?
I wanted to ask,
I really wanted to ask,
who was the one who said:
»Honey, it’s just a dream, go back to sleep«,
and deported me back to my war.
Photo: Esra Rotthoff
Stage Photos: Ute Langkafel