The stage design at Sala Beckett, in Barcelona, attempted to map out the interference of HERE.

The house, a floating room hanging from the ceiling, was in the centre of the space. The walls were made of transparent polyester and doubled up as projector screens. Behind the house was a garden with synthetic grass and plants where the characters, at their most desperate, went to smoke. The furniture consisted of acrylic prisms with wheels and lights inside. Three lamps, a television with a camera attached and a radio facilitated communication between dimensions.

The real stage design lay in the technical perimeter, the blurred border between the possible and the fictional. The staging required as many technicians as actors. Standing in plain sight, they created an ambiguous second layer of performance. Three raised platforms surrounded the audience: one for each seating block. They were equipped with around forty spotlights and three projectors. The overall appearance was a combination of a sports stadium and a television set. The spotlights, projectors, speakers, microphones, lights, camera, television and radio were the end points of an interconnected network through which flows travelled ceaselessly. The technicians, spread out over the different platforms, handled the network. Information was modified, diverted, shared and isolated through nodes: switches, modulators, mixers and computers with editing software.

The technological fabric of the piece was as complex as it was useless, on occasions. The internet signal, the only essential element, over which we had no control, collapsed at random intervals.

In the end, the real interference was not the one we were mapping. Nor was it the one described in the script.
Mark