Three poets, one DJ.
A crowd

Words, beats, stories.
Dancing is allowed


Breath[e]:LESS is a blend of spoken word, soundscape, projection and dance music on environmental themes. It was originally produced by Imove in association with Theatre in the Mill, Bradford and A Firm of Poets in autumn 2015.

Words by Ralph Dartford, Tessa Gordziejko, Tom Hunt.
Music by Kwah. Projections and design by Al Orange. Directed by Iain Bloomfield

Breath[e]:LESS is a flexible piece which can be presented in a range of performance layouts, scale and environments. It is an ideal show for festivals, small theatre and music venues.

“This is a perfect camping festival gig; sun up, sun down, people in dance and party mode, part of an ongoing dialogue with the audience…”

Helen Meller, Director, Hebden Bridge Arts Festival

For more information contact Tessa

Climate Change and Climate Psychology

Breath[e]:LESS is an exploration by four artists of the human response to climate change threat. It concerns itself less with the science
and more about what is happening in people’s heads as they take on (or fail to take on) what the science is telling us.

We undertook a fair bit of research into climate change and the way we are responding to it. You can read about our thoughts
in this Climate Change blog by Tessa.

But Dermot built his pension, comfort, wealth,
he drives a brand new car
and benefits from private health
insurance. A satisfactory, standard life.

He never contemplates future doom
and there again, if it’s true, he and his wife
will be long gone. Won’t be here.
They’ll have left the room.
They were born of the boom.

Tessa Gordziejko (extract) 

Photo credits: Elenid Davies, Al Orange, Sean Phillips.

So we sailed south,
wheeled wide around
Africa’s west side and further down
to slip, silent as river snakes
past pirates;
none the wiser in their gulfs.

We coasted capes
and schooled with manatee;
seals peeked in our portholes
to laugh at us,
play and gambol in our wake,
and we barely even thought about
the ever-present ache
we harboured in our bones.

You see, we knew, sooner or later
we would have to go back home.

Tom Hunt (extract)

Yet the sweet whispers in the trees
and the soft Mississippi River
rendered Katrina’s memory
to a girl I’d met on the Internet
flirted with from my armchair.

There are those who were rooted here
still clinging to the olive branches over there
whilst a second line of ghosts
trombone alone in her mud.

Ralph Dartford (extract)

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