A speaker subtly gets closer and closer, sliding. Our attention is focused on anything else. We're surprised by its position on stage, although we don't realize that it is moving. We hear a text about Bach's vision loss at the end of his life, unaware that vision can also be an act of attention and direction. We are too focused on the construction of a sculpture or on a mobile phone that rings sporadically that we don’t realize the most unusual action that is taking place in front our eyes: the slow movement of an object from which we do not expect any displacement.

The best choreographic movements are usually imperceptible, lying in the uncertainty of seeing. It is only when the movement is already expressive that we do realize that it exists, and that we have been in a partial blindness state until then. But there is in the uncertainty of seeing a blurred poetry. The process of losing visual acuity seems distressing to Bach, but it may act as another way of understanding reality. It makes it less clear, incomplete, undefined or undetermined. This is also one of the dimensions of art: an object or an incomplete practice, a materiality full of fissures, of small pots for individual or collective germination.

When we are faced with this inevitable "need to complete the incomplete", we realize that it is desirable that we do not always try to do so, keeping the artistic objects open to shard, mystery, a cumulative of hypothetical scenarios or the absence of them. Ironically, after showing us that this exercise is necessary, Matija answers a phone call, leaving us uncertain about the episode that his brother has just reported to him. Seconds later, we understand that we have fallen again into the unnecessary habit of completing the incomplete. Throughout the three hours of "St. Matthew Passion", we continue this process of unconscious filling and its constant refusal, throughout a pile of autobiographical objects, stories about death, genealogies, injury reports and zoologies.

In a deambulatory choreography composed of images of death and suffering, Matija Ferlin organizes and combines theatrical gestures of despair towards the greatest symbol of scenic conclusion and death - a bow. However, it is in the verbal and silent moments of the body that the most interesting side of this work is revealed, in this incomplete choreography only enunciated by words. And it takes different forms: an enumeration of painful injuries, therapies and physical exercises collected over the years, a detailed description of a virtuous choreography performed when he was young, as well as multiple narrations about death in the World War II. All this always combined with simple and precise actions. It is with this verbal suggestion of gesture, movement, pain and biography, that an open choreography is written: a blind movement of valorization of incompleteness.