Taking dance away from the stage, finding unusual places, is to refer to the journey in the map. Narrative literature is often accompanied by maps or atlases. The cartography of places maintains an ambivalent relationship with choreography and engenders a space of narrative, it allows us to understand that the linear nature of the story is in reality
part of a system of permanent spatial relationships. The extension of the choreographic field to objects other than the body reveals its temporary invisibility. The gap in the space of the image extends the discrete electronic world to a macroscopic level and carries on by di‑erentiation from other elements such as places, frames, the interlocking of sequences, objects and machines. It is no longer the screen that we are looking at. You enter through pathways scattered here and there. The body is sometimes guessed, sometimes glimpsed, it passes on the baton, vanishes into the suspension of the edit. The dance is still there, even if the body disappears, because the movement written, chosen and determined,
is composed infinitely, leaving the reader free to associate the elements relating to his own journey, his own enigma.