Pole of inaccessibility
It's 2023. There are a bunch of young artists in Viljandi. Actors, directors, choreographers, video, lighting and sound artists who have decided to go to Point Nemo.
It's 1992. Croatian engineer Hrvoje Lukatela has calculated the oceanic pole of inaccessibility with millimeter precision. The furthest point from land. He calls it Point Nemo, inspired by the name from Jules Verne's book 'Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Seas' and the Latin word nemo or nobody. In any direction, the stable ground is 2,688 kilometres from the Point-of-Nobody, and the closest people are mostly astronauts flying over Point Nemo. Spacecraft that are no longer in use are cast into the depths of the Sea-of-Nobody, turning the place into a graveyard of humanity's technological ambitions and achievements.
Online performance is a form. It sometimes looks like theatre, sometimes film, sometimes Instagram live, but it's none of them. It lives simultaneously in singular and multiple, mixing real and virtual spacetime. “The oceanic pole of inaccessibility” is unique in these dimensions, yet infinitely copyable, transmittable and transferable. It takes place in a space where you are not. Yet you can watch it in your own home, on your own screen.
We have been on the road for four months, two weeks and three days. The big blue continues to stretch out before us, both above and below. We are sailing in the unknown, supported only by the hand of a companion. We arrive and set off together, despite the temptation to go on alone or turn back, leaving everything behind. By the time you're reading this text, we have come to terms with the unknown. We drift, we carry and are carried, we give and take, we invent and break.