Vunerability violated, promises broken, the inability to communicate. These are the themes examined in Joele Anastasi’s re-writing of Lilleskogen by Jon Jesper Halle. Halle’s piece is a “space” in memory, where adult/children or children/adults play, where good and evil come together to describe infantile fantasies of the unknown: every one of us perhaps becomes an adult in a precise moment, and innocence becomes fragility. Now that all the flowers are made of salt there is the chance to look in the mirror and see not only the adult that we have become, but also the moment in which, leaping out of the rut of childhood, we tripped. The deep-rooted relationships within a family sometimes render the divide between purity and brutality very slender.

“Every afternoon we went to play in the old abandoned lido, even though it was forbidden. My grandmother always told us that her father took her there every summer when it was still the only lido in the city and the growing port hadn’t yet led it to become an abandoned place... . When there were not yet the sirens of the ships which sounded the death knell because the fishermen had gathered with their nets only kilogrammes of hope. And the bodies were not laid along the quay. When salt was not the only flower which lay upon them and we didn’t even know what the word refugee meant, and everyone was simply a person.” Joele Anastasi