Alone on stage, Itali­an cho­reo­graph­er and dan­cer Chiara Ber­sani explores the fant­ast­ic­al fig­ure of the uni­corn. A del­ic­ate, subtle reflec­tion on the body and otherness.

The uni­corn is sin­gu­lar in the sense that it is a myth­o­lo­gic­al creature without myth, without any­thing to base or jus­ti­fy its exist­ence. As such, it is a blank page on which we can pro­ject all man­ner of mean­ings and affects. In an assert­ive par­al­lel with the notion of the body polit­ic, the idea that each per­son takes respons­ib­il­ity for design­ing the image the world will have of her, Chiara Ber­sani intends to give love, his­tory and choice to a creature that humans have abused: over the cen­tur­ies, she has changed form, fath­ers (from pagan creature to sym­bol of the pope) and mean­ing (magic­al heal­er, guard­i­an of girls’ chastity, defend­er of Cath­ol­ic ideo­logy) until she has become a con­tem­por­ary pop icon. Chiara Ber­sani, a 98cm-tall dan­cer, pro­claims her­self the flesh, muscles and bones of the uni­corn, giv­ing it breath and eyes in a del­ic­ate dia­logue. In so doing, she gives voice to the essen­tial ques­tions that run through the uni­corn: Why do I exist? Am I good or bad? If you found me in your garden tomor­row, what would you do? Where is my love? Her pres­ence on stage, deployed in a series of simple move­ments and ges­tures, is a del­ic­ate and subtle first response.