Andreas Moroder

The Waves - Neville

Neville, The Waves by Virginia Woolf



Still black.

Slowly some light gets in.

A figure appears.

It is a house.

Everything is grey,

Everything is flat,

It is November.

I look at the building,

A pigeon on the roof looks at me.

The shadow of the building renders three different volumes.

A huge one in front, a little one right next to it,

The last one pops out behind the little one.

Everything seems to be in concrete.

Façade and sky are flat like a piece of paper.

I slowly approach the entrance,

I am no longer sure about the concrete,

Maybe it’s wood.

Two steps and I am at the Pedestal.

I ring the bell.



Second scene. Inside. Color. Lightly and Quick. (Music: Arcade Fire – Photograph)

The door opens. Petrol blue. A red stair in the corner breaks through the wall. I turn right. A stage setting. The blue wall is hung up like a curtain. The structure is exposed. I go through it. Dark Olive green. The backstage is a closet. Off with the jacket. Off with the shoes. Back in the blue room. To the red stair. Turn to the right. Light. In front a big Elm tree through the window. Straight forward. Down the red steps into the green wooden room. The tree is really close. I feel really close. On the left a little step to a door. I turn left. A red room framed like a window. Through the window into the room. Down the steps. Verticality. I look up. Light shine from above. A ring of books surrounds the upper room. I try to go up. The first cabinet door opens up a staircase. Dark olive green. At the end a door. I reach it. Open it. Yellow. Light shining from above. It is a toilet. Turn around. Back to the Office. I find a second staircase. Dark olive green. Light from above. Up. I open the door. Light. Books. Everywhere. I go around. Look at the books. Take one. Go down. Up the stairs. Through the window into the green room. Another step. Open the door. Sun. Gras. Fresh air. I stand outside. I go to the tree. Lay down on the lawn. Open the book:

Little pause until the music gets slower. Relaxed and Calm.

“This is how it always ends. With death. But first there was life. Hidden beneath the blah, blah, blah. It is all settled beneath the chitter chatter and the noise. Silence and sentiment. Emotion and fear. All buried under the cover of the embarrassment of being in the world. Blah, blah, blah. Beyond there is what lies beyond. I don’t deal with what lies beyond. Therefore, let this novel begin.”