One dancer. A million petals. Not a single word. Scroll to raise the curtain.
It begins as a single thread of red, turning. By the fourth bar it is a storm.
Every petal lights from within, one ring at a time, until the stage is noon.
Nine thousand roses close around her. A ribbon draws the house crest in light.
She lifts her arms. The whole back wall lifts with them.
The quiet act. White on black, and the sound of a thousand paper bells.
A red moon made of fans, curling over her like a wave about to break.
The largest thing we have ever built. Eleven metres, and it breathes.
The finale. Stay in your seat: this is when the petals reach row Z.
We wanted to see how much a stage could say without anyone speaking. It turns out flowers are very loud.
Tap a ring of the house. Closer means more petals in your hair. Further back means you see the whole flower at once.
Click, tap or drag anywhere in this room.