Anaïs Clerc

**Invitation to the Heidelberg Play Market 2024**


Where she comes from, the crows fall from the sky, the meat is shredded, there is no more sowing or reaping, and / where she wants to go, they say, you have to turn away from the smell of slurry despite diversity. Is all the world really not a stage? When the light falls through the church windows and the Rolex is ticking, it's time to go back, through the barn door. A search between generations, grapes and unspoken words / Saint Sebastian, please protect me for once.
burning house is a family story that recounts a meeting of three generations. The youngest has distanced herself, and the middle child contacts her after the eldest has died of liver damage. What would the daughter, father and grandfather have to say to each other after all this time in a hypothetical dialogue, and can traumas be inherited? What do we forget, and what stays with us and doesn't go away, or does it go away/when does it go away?
A play about silence, fathers and a search between fields, expanses and narrow spaces.