Trafika Europe 7 - Ukrainian Prayer

Felix Austria

and a white shirt; on its bare face glistens a dashingly curled prop mustache. Next Thorn, at a lightning speed, stuffs with straw a little girl—a few circular movements, a few tight knots—and she joins the family. He sits her down by the feet of the big dummies, crosses Turkish-style her limp legs in britches, places a sitar in her hands. Then he covers the straw dummy with the silk cloth; with careful, tender movements he pats down the head, the shoulders, the legs of the doll, carefully slaps it lightly, picks the folds of the fabric, tucks it in, straightens in, again returns to the face— and all of a sudden it becomes noticeable that where there had only been a smooth fabric ball stuffed with hay now the features of a face become perceptible: recesses for the eyes, the tip of a nose, round

cheeks. Simultaneously a quiet prolonged hum spread around, echoing languidly in a pulsating sensation in the viewers’ bodies. The sounds become louder, the melody clearly comes from underneath the fabric that is beginning to move under the palms of the illusionist. He lightly picks the fabric with two fingers and slowly pulls it towards himself. “Aaah,” sighs the audience. Next to the two dummies sits a real living child, small and cute, with soft cheeks and serious eyes, with heavily made up eyes, picking the strings of the sitar and slowly rocking its head wrapped in a large turban. Thorn then, covering them with fabric in turn, brings to life the woman and the man. The woman’s face is heavily painted: rouged cheeks,

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