David Heinemann

Composed and direct, three young people talk about the tumult of voices that frequently floods their heads: about the times when the inner whispers drove them to lose control—and the inexplicable moments when the voices actually saved their lives.

When her estranged father dies suddenly, artistic director Egle begins to hear voices who prophesy her father’s return. Fearing for her life, Egle solicits the help of an actress friend from the theatre, and through role-play and ritual they are drawn deeper and deeper into the torments of Egle’s past.

Kasi, a 16-year-old girl, unexpectedly meets her dead father. Although they had barely spoken and Kasi didn't even attend his funeral, her dad is eager to mend their relationship and start afresh.

Lithuania's oldest factory breathes life into the next generation of workers and the clay bricks they toil to produce. The spaces, their textures and sounds, transport us to an uncertain, mysterious dimension. The decrepit factory, the Sisyphean labour it extracts, presents us with our own mortality. Like bricks we are but clay.

Composed and direct, three young people talk about the tumult of voices that frequently floods their heads: about the times when the inner whispers drove them to lose control—and the inexplicable moments when the voices actually saved their lives.

When her estranged father dies suddenly, artistic director Egle begins to hear voices who prophesy her father’s return. Fearing for her life, Egle solicits the help of an actress friend from the theatre, and through role-play and ritual they are drawn deeper and deeper into the torments of Egle’s past.

When her estranged father dies suddenly, artistic director Egle begins to hear voices who prophesy her father’s return. Fearing for her life, Egle solicits the help of an actress friend from the theatre, and through role-play and ritual they are drawn deeper and deeper into the torments of Egle’s past.

Kasi, a 16-year-old girl, unexpectedly meets her dead father. Although they had barely spoken and Kasi didn't even attend his funeral, her dad is eager to mend their relationship and start afresh.

Kasi, a 16-year-old girl, unexpectedly meets her dead father. Although they had barely spoken and Kasi didn't even attend his funeral, her dad is eager to mend their relationship and start afresh.

Lithuania's oldest factory breathes life into the next generation of workers and the clay bricks they toil to produce. The spaces, their textures and sounds, transport us to an uncertain, mysterious dimension. The decrepit factory, the Sisyphean labour it extracts, presents us with our own mortality. Like bricks we are but clay.