Curator："Tale heads towards the opposite direction and then starts moving from left to right across the horizon, sometimes over and sometimes partly under and around the people, until she gets to the very far right edge – and out of the picture frame. While she is relaxed, and moves slowly, intuitively but tenaciously, the others stay still where they are on the ground. They do not seem to be disturbed when that violet T-shirt lands on, or comes through or under, their bodies; instead, they appear compassionate, cooperative and instinctive, welcoming and accepting her, although apparently unconsciously. In other words, the woman did not interrupt their dreams but perhaps was part of their dreams. Nothing has been told about what they dreamt, apart from a composition of sound based on an electric guitar filling the space – abstract, experimental and improvisational; sometimes sacred and authoritative; sometimes graceful, like sound from a heavenly world; and sometimes disruptive, or even obstreperous, challenging its own limits.
The sound composer of the piece, Stian Westerhus, in fact, was only informed of the length of the performance but not the content. In return, the sound remained unknown to the performers until the performance took place, the film being shot in one take, with no rehearsal. Similarly, we do not rehearse our dreams; we replay them, with the remembered and the fabricated. Thus, in this case, the music was not designed to illustrate the performance, but became the shared vision of the dreamers. That vision is concealed and remains unseen on the one hand; on the other, it must be precisely what can be heard. "