La Veronal raises a dialogue exercise with the sculptures that Richard Serra conceived, not as a reference to the historical memory but as a spatial experimentation and temporal analogy of two historical facts: the bombing of Guernica (1937) and the Benghazi attack (1986).

The dialogue here braided is the spatial juxtaposition between dance and sculpture, between weight and movement, between gravity and gravity.

Accompanied by Steve Reich, musician collaborator and friend of Richard Serra, La Veronal makes available the trait and its morphological development of the Kova movement (the language used by La Veronal) building a maze of significant complexity.

Weaving dance and sculpture alludes to the debate about the role of gravity within artistic representation: if it dries up with corporal experience, or whereas its account may function as cooperation and encounter.

Before and between Serra’s sculptures, which entertain with space a relationship based on an orthogonal distribution of weight, elevation and extension parameters, La Veronal uses its Kova movement language to establish a dialogue between the gravity of the body and its ability of profusion and labyrinthine dispersion. Because if a body’s specific gravity is not only its geometrically decree on where it falls (and where it will be located) it is also what is decreed symbolically from its proximity to death (rust, the result of helplessness and passivity of metals before elements).
The only movement that somehow can express dissimulation, the dangerous game and avoidance of death is the movement which absorbs into the body self-propulsions and deceptions of the labyrinth: the only building conceived, among all, to mislead death.

While the false evidence of the rhythm subdivision of space organized by Serra cloaks a general rule of history and its evils (which is to propose always and only imperfect likenesses), Kova plays at producing as a miracle the non-obviousness of the body prepared to play in a white space, and exposed to the unblemished dynamics of a resemblance, infinite and infinitely imperfect with itself.

There remains the issue whether the fall is what awaits us at the end of the trajectory (that about every labyrinth delays, what in music corresponds to the “ritardando” of the final note) or if the labyrinth is what awaits us after the fall (a world of anamorphosis and twists and repetitions, waiting just below the straight universe, consistent and plain where we abdicate when we let ourselves drop)