No development. No motion. Only the enunciation of a text (the verses 396-513 of Hartmann von Aue's "Iwein"). Through a mask. A ruthless mode, violence coming to the fore. Violation of the natural speech. Violence causing the breakup and reassembly of the parts. The rhythm comes entirely from the outside, in motion but also rigid in its motion. At some point the perception my change. Maybe forgetting what is what; if the noise isn't a voice, the voice not noise, if the stroke of the tam-tam leads or follows, if maybe the silence, this unresonating white wasteland, doesn't speak after all.