Rina Kasai,
"People who fall into a commonplace ditch luck in daily life",
Wonderland,
November, 2004
Performers bank up on the stage like they abandon the flesh each other in the silence such once cough passes from audience seats to every hole and corner of the theater. It is unconscious who is whose face shooting into the dim lights.
We have confirmation of their figures with the will. We predict what is going on next roaming around in our head trying to sound out director's purpose. We picture the views that exhausted old and young by the loneliness in the masses devour each other and swallow. I felt hard the coldness like soak into skin from the stage.
Lighting go out. The stage is dim. Just the move of performers can be seen. They sit up as they woke up at last and start to walk as they make sure they are down to earth with their eyes glazed.
Each of them, discretely, holding each view point, pace is quicken by little and little, the light is brighten, individual by individual, further individual and developing a range. Other people who try to ignore can not stand the situation and take part in the range. The last man who can not join was pushed away, slam the body against the floor and put on a scowl expression. Reluctantly participate in the range. Joining reluctantly but exist the occasion without sense of discomfort now be one of the range. There seems to be no problem. But each reaches impasse. They move like against original own rhythm. People who squat down with out-of-control pain. People who try to develop range casting aside the pain. And drpout. The stage is swallowed up by disharmony. Tattered human figure is brought into relief and finally people clung to the towering jumble of clothe like calling for help.
The stage is littered with clothing. The clothing twisting human body are shown us to see. Close their eyes like fetus rolling on the stage and seems to make sure where they are. The appearance stripping what they wear seems as if they try to reborn.

How concentration needed stage. When I found self, there is myself who cannot move. Why, I feel as if I am also on that stage. Performers' eyes are straight and dead as if businessman on the train who I see everyday. They are the people who crack under the society I fear unconsciously. That is, me? The question races through my head. Performance fervor communicates itself to here. I was sweating without notice even it is winter. Performance without all line stimulate our imagination thoroughly same as "Shanghai Ijin Shokan" I had seen before.
People on the stage pull tights over their head one by one. The face becomes invisible again. There are many man having no features. The man who was resisting till the last a little while ago also is covered up with tights by other person and struggle distressfully. No one expression is seen. Stillness. I want to escape. Because the moment that human becomes no human seems to be shown. At the end, they tore up the tights each other, got dress into the clothes leaving underfoot, and went back to usual day. STORE HOUSE COMPANY is having like this play every time. The company seems to fully trust in the power sprang from performers' flesh. Performances are also in foreign countries, it became one of company which I want to give attention to from now.