There are pearl fishers who dive into the ocean's depths looking for shells. They stay underwater for many minutes at a time, risking their lives for a treasure that will later adorn others. And then there are other pearl fishers, who seek a different kind of gemstone: the pearl of the soul. Plunging into the deepest depths of the infinite ocean of the soul, they seek what they know will only be theirs. They dive, risking all to find the true one, and if they find it, to bring it to the surface. Such pearl fishers do exist as well.
"I do not know the sea. I've never held its soft, salty hand. I only know the murmur of dreams. The moon gleams and the tide billows. I only know this broad inhalation, as it builds in the depths, the expansion of the lungs, of the cells and blood vessels, as the stillness rises and the motionlessness begins; I do not know the sea, only this swelling, as it floods over the parched sand, as foam slaps upon foam, surf churns upon surf, wave falls upon wave; only this, the dancing of kingfishers, the plummeting of gulls, the gathering tension of beasts in labour; I do not know the sea, I only know the murmur of dreams, as the sea runs over at the peak of the tide; I know the ebb, the receding waves, the glittering crests of the retreating ripples, the frightened twitching of the crabs on drying sand, the transfiguration of sea spiders in clawed dread, the death throes of stalk-eyed reptiles ringed by dying seaweed; and, at the centre of this morass of panic, the roseate wonder of the frilled shell, as if on the velvet of a table, or on a velvety palm, and within it the sea rumbles.” (György Rónay)

Presented by: National Dance Theatre