Performance text:
"My grandmother used to cry a lot. Among all the known living beings, she had the most sensitive heart that was so easy to touch or wound. But when she died, I didn't cry. Neither did I cry when my father died.
With her death, a hollow emptiness planted inside me. It is an embodied impossibility to be like her, to feel like her, to see like her, to be wounded like her, dear Tamara Ivanovna.
All that I've got as my grandmother's heritage is this china. It is not vintage, neither is it nice. It has no lost or broken plates, not a single fracture. We didn't eat from it even once.
This china rests like a burden in my closets; it occupies that empty cupboard where a memory of a living, loved person should be. And I want to throw away, to give away this damned china just to empty the place.
But the simplicity of this gesture is delusive. Because getting rid of dead monuments that occupy the space of my memory will not make that hollowness alive. But I want to try.
So today, I invite you to share this feast with me. This dish was cooked by the elderly women of the family. But now, this woman is gone, and now I am this woman. And I wish you all, myself foremost, to fear not being fragile. As what is whole is dead, and what can be broken is alive."