RUIDO, 2023

More than half a century ago, Beckett declared the end of everything: Finished, it is finished, this ends, this perhaps will end. A statement increasingly hesitant, because maybe nothing ever truly ends. Even today, the echo of the Big Bang persists in the universe as cosmic noise.

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In RUIDO, we encounter those who could be the last two human beings on Earth, after a cataclysm has taken everything. In this case, the protagonists of the second origin are not Alba and Dídac, as in Pedrolo’s Mecanoscrit, but Núria Martínez-Vernis and Juan Navarro. And the ruins they live among are not physical but digital: instead of firewood, they gather remnants of video files that have lost their sound.

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RUIDO places us before a silence that must be filled again. Here, however, the light does not come from the flames of a bonfire, but from the lens of a projector, and the play of shadows and fictions that Núria and Juan reinvent corresponds less to theatrical corporeality and more to the artifice of cinema.

Thus, these two beings—both narrators and spectators of the end of the world—come to embody the figure of the foley artist or cinematic sound designer: someone who works with deception and cleverness to create a sense of veracity. Someone who fills voids.

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With this work, Ça marche distances itself from the world of children that has accompanied its recent projects, while keeping intact its commitment to play, as well as its fascination with the liminal spaces of culture, where the traces of civilization are most diffuse. For humanity in its terminal phase, Núria and Juan give life to the possibility of acting like children again