Materia review

A sheet of polystyrene shuffles along the floor like a man walking into a blizzard, head bowed into the wind. For the briefest of moments, it appears to be alive. In his solo show Materia – presented as part of the London International Mime Festival – Berlin-based Italian contemporary circus artist Andrea Salustri makes poetry from this most unassuming of packing materials.

Using a collection of fans, Salustri animates polystyrene sheets, spheres and pellets. They are buffeted on air currents, floating like butterflies. In one sequence, Salustri uses his skills as a contact juggler to perform a delicate duet, using the lightest of touches – of his fingers, of his wrist – to manipulate a white polystyrene rectangle. It is hypnotic to watch. Gradually, this manufactured material is made to evoke the wonder of the natural world. A shower of polystyrene particles sent twirling into the air looks like a snowstorm; when bathed in warm golden light, it takes on the appearance of a cloud of fireflies. Salustri switches off the fan, and the particles fall to the ground and become sea foam – white waves that scatter across the stage.

Next, Salustri uses a heat gun to perforate and melt one sheet until craters start to form and it takes on a lunar quality, while his hand transforms into an alien form creeping across its surface.  He dissolves another in a liquid bath; we hear its fizzing, hissing demise. Throughout the show, destruction is interwoven with beauty. His polystyrene co-stars are repeatedly snapped and chewed up by fan blades. (After the show, all the debris will be composted, completing the process).

The sound design by Federico Coderoni plays a key role in this wordless show. Carefully placed microphones pick up and amplify every scritch and crackle. If you’re into ASMR (autonomous sensory meridian response) you’ll be in your element. The show concludes with a bravura sonic sequence, orchestrated by Salustri, in which a series of polystyrene forms – white orbs and triangular fins – are set in whirring motion simultaneously. They hum and click and rattle. The combined noises, coupled with Michele Piazzi’s strobing lighting, create a sense of planetary turmoil. In the melee we hear heartbeat thumps and oceanic roars. Unexpectedly, it’s thrillingly epic, not least because of the method of its creation.

There is no guiding narrative, no big message, but in under an hour of inventive object manipulation – any longer would have been hard to sustain – Salustri creates something both meditative and magical.