Through dance, music, and imagery, Stranger in a Famil­i­ar Land­scape draws an intim­ate map of exile, ques­tion­ing the rela­tion­ship between the body and space and its memory.

Which sounds do you wake up to every morn­ing? Is there a desert in the coun­try where you grew up? The places we inhab­it leave their mark on our bod­ies and shape the way we are in the world. What hap­pens to this imprint when we leave? And why, when we return, does what was once so famil­i­ar some­times seem for­eign? On stage, a nar­rat­or con­jures up these lost land­scapes: the echo of inhab­ited places. Two dan­cers trace van­ish­ing lines and anchor points, as if stub­bornly try­ing to touch the earth, search­ing for a source that no longer responds. The image finds us there, between doc­u­ment­ary and art his­tory, in the ver­tigo of real­ity. Between Aus­tralia, the United States and Nor­way, dir­ect­or and musi­cian Deborah Len­nie com­poses a sens­it­ive tale of wan­der­ing and anchor­ing, in an inter­weav­ing of writ­ing, cho­reo­graphy, sound, and film.