Thursday, 16 April 2015


I am so excited to present my new upcoming contemporary performance production in Glasgow: 




There is FREE ADMISSION! Nevertheless, tickets are limited and reservation is required. Please check out the press release below:


‘Memory is never a precise duplicate of the original… it is a continuing act of creation. Dream images are the product of that creation.’ – Rosalind D. Cartwright
Somniloquy is an original contemporary performance, which initiates a lyrical reflection on the metamorphic nature of dreams and memories. The piece is an exploration of psychical states of heightened intensity that you only encounter while dreaming, or during the reveries of the past.
The journey tries to recreate the bittersweet nostalgia for places, events, or people as they were, and the feeling of being homesick for places you’ve never been to.


Time & Date: 8 pm, Sunday 19th of April 2015
SWG3, 100 Eastvale Place, Glasgow G3 8QG.
(The easiest way to get there is from Partick SPT Subway/Railway station. ( )
Reserve your free ticket: (

Please email me at: to notify me of any mobility requirements*.

(* This piece would require ascending a staircase and walking through a darkened corridor.)

Sunday, 8 March 2015

Hey Ho Hello - Message in a bottle

Yep. I am guilty. I haven't posted here in a long while. 
But I have a perfectly good excuse: For the past 2 years I've been busy reshaping my future, my life and my career path, all in one go, studying for a BA (Hons) Performance degree in Scotland. Two years passed by in the blink of an eye, and here I am, writing my end of year dissertation. And here comes the catch: I need your help! 
For my end of year dissertation I've been researching the use of film projection on stage. For the purpose of my research I need to gather some data using this survey:

If you have some time to spare please have a look at it. It features recordings of two performances I’ve been involved in and it asks a series of questions about them. As an incentive there is the chance to win a £10 Amazon voucher (your email address will be entered into a lottery).

The survey will be up only for a few days (until Thursday, the 12th of March 2015), so if you could find some time to complete it before then, that would be great!

Your input would be of great help to me and highly appreciated.

Thank you very much!

Wednesday, 2 May 2012

Berlin as Wonderland

The English Community Theater group is creating it's own Berlinified version of Alice in Wonderland. It incorporates the Lewis Carroll story with our own experiences as Alices in Berlinland. Take a trip to Wonderland with us! We have a wonderful concept and tones of enthusiasm! HELP us to accomplish this project at it's full potential. 
Check out our promo video at:


Thank You so much!

Friday, 28 October 2011

Lust for Life

I am a trapezoidal tree, with my brisky mane floating in the illusion, my roots were formed in bleeding ground; my trunk is pierced by a square ball that has left a hole like a window through which flows the sea, in which seagulls snivel like infants. In my sap cries the dust from which I draw and all the violins are tighed to my grandparents souls. My hands have eyes and I have mouths instead of feet, eating the ground while fleeing...

I step the pedals in a hurry and the nightly world passes by through my eyes, hallucinogenic and sad like a sea of golden spirits, juvenile and tender. The images stick at the border of my eyelids as wings of thousand footed spiders. The train is golden and shiny and takes my glance in it's speed. We race, then curve ourselves in the same curved line as in a non-Euclidian geometry; we leak together in a tender spin as lovers embraced in a dance. It steals my eyes from my eye sockets and runs away; imprints a rotation spin to my eye globes and REMs extremely beautifully coloured pulsate in front of me like in a magic lantern. I'm high. But I'm not on drugs. I'm on Life. I'm alive! I indulge into the pleasure of this pretious moment and I taste it, I bite from it as from a rare delicacy; I swallow this sensation with small bites as a ravenous cannibal, eating his thoughts in a transe.

Sunt un arbore trapezoidal, cu coama zbarlita plutind in iluzie; radacinile mi s-au inchegat in pamant sangerand; trunchiul mi-e strapuns de o ghiulea patrata ce-a lasat in urma o gaura ca o fereastra prin care se scurge marea, in care scancesc pescarusii cu urlete de nou nascuti. In seva imi plange tarana din care ma trag si toate viorile laolalta sunt legate de sufletele bunicilor. In palme am ochi; si am guri in loc de picioare, cu care fug mancand pamantul...
Zoresc la pedale si lumea trece nocturna prin fata mea, halucinogena si trista ca o mare de spirite aurii, juvenile si tandre. Imaginile imi bat in pleoape si-n piept ca aripi de paianjen cu infinite picioare. Trenul e galben si poleit. Trenul e de aur si-mi fuge cu el privirea. Ne intrecem, apoi ne curbam amandoi in acceasi directie, ca intr-o geometrie non-euclidiana; ne scurgem impreuna intr-o rotatie mladioasa ca un dans de dragoste. Imi fura ochii si fuge cu ei; imprima spin de rotatie globului meu ocular si REM-uri  deosebit de frumoase pulseaza in fata-mi ca intr-o lanterna magica. I'm high, but I'm not on drugs. I'm on Life. I'm alive. Imi servesc ca o delicatesa acest moment pretios si-l inghit cu imbucaturi mici de canibal hamesit, fagocitandu-si gandurile.

Thursday, 18 August 2011


- what do you get if you put a mathematical circle into a glass of water?
- a shadow? a big black barking dog?
- no
- a drunken sun? a drowned firefly?
- no!
- a dreamcatcher?
- hmm..
- an 'oh', or 'ah' sound? a song?
- depends...

- then, if you sing a song under the water, do you get your circle back?


There was a tall fine and yourg lady with a horse face last night, plimbandu-si in lesa rosie (walking in read leash), with a swinging pace, un caine enorm negru (an enormous black dog).
cainele (the dog), de dimensiunea unui ponei (the size of a poney), apucase Luna de unul din capete si acuma o molfaia absent (had bitten the Moon at one end and now was chewing it absent-minded); am dat iar nas in nas cu ei mai tarziu in timp ce ocupa doua locuri pline in vagonul de U-bahn care nu se urnea din Warshauerstrasse (I came across them again later, while they were duble siting in the U-Bahn wagon who was stuck in Warschauer Strasse). The dog was burping while drinking beer from the bottle of a very young stranger with lots of pimples on his face, that was attempting a conversation with the Moon in Spanish. The mistress was engaged meanwhile in a lesbian flirt with an older lady with very blond very long fairy hair, falling down her shoulders, that was passionately massaging the strong furry shoulders of the reposing black animal. The dog was docile-dumm or it seemed so, under the efect of the alcohol. It also looked as if it had smoked some joints before...its appearance was as taken from a washed-out nightmare. As if the mistress pulled her nightmare out and shaped it in the form of a dog, exposing it to the strangers, out of pure exhibitionism. Out of pure oniric voaiorism, I was just sitting there and watched, completely out of my body, while my body was being squeezed in a inconsistent mass of weirdly shaped, oddly dressed and funny smelling strangers. The only reasonable person in which I could guess a sense of integrity was a hunched man of undecised almost maybe once young age, wearing a very reare 100-days old beard, proudly playing guitar and asking for money.

Tuesday, 25 January 2011

Berliner Summer Night's Dream

Friday January 21. - Sunday 23. at 8pm
Studio at English Theatre Berlin
The English Community Theatre Berlin
A Berlin Summer Night's Dream

In this modernized version of the Shakespearean classic, set in our beloved city of contemporary magic, the fairies are nightclub staff, the magic is ecstasy and Lysander has been transformed into Lysandra. As our "mechanicals" jostle for a shot at fame and quarreling couples attempt to make sense of love, a potion mix-up leads to a conflict of existential proportion. Had they added Puck as their facebook friend it might have saved them from the ensuing chaos. Join us as we bring sexy back to the forest of fairies and let the love juice fly.

The English Community Theater Berlin is the new international amateur acting group of the English Theater Berlin, run by drama educator Inka-Charlotte Palm. "A Berlin Summer Night's Dream" is their first production.

Directed by: Inka-Charlotte Palm

TICKETS: 12,- / 7,- reduced / 3-Euro-Kulturticket
English Theatre Berlin,
F40, Fidicinstr.40, 10965 Berlin
Box Office Phone: ++49 (0)30 691 12 11

21, 22, 23 January: YES, it was really a dream drama weekend. intensive rehearsals and beautiful beautiful people!!!!

Thisbe passionately kisses Pyramus through a chink in the Berliner wall.

Berliner wall, in the marvelous interpretation of Minna Partanen.

Group of club fairies involved in sensual massages and caresses for satisfying the erotic pleasures of an ass.

Group of club fairies fencing Bottom's way out, under the supervision of their DJane fairy-queen-of-the-club, Titania.

Some orange people from BSR (Berliner Stadtreinigung) cleaning their way to celebrity.

Tuesday, 4 January 2011

Vis cu cartof

Revelația mea a inceput mai dinainte. Inainte de a mă trezi deja. Am visat azi noapte că eram un cartof. Eram așadar un cartof și pornisem la drum prin lume. Nu era o senzație dubioasa, ba chiar era natural să mă simt așa, iar lumea la a carei dimensiuni intoarse pe dos nu cugetasem inca, mi se părea complet normală. Normala zic! Vedeam mult pamant(eram aproape de sol) și mă rostogoleam mult, iar la un moment dat, chiar incolțisem si-mi crescuseră mustăți in toată regula. Făceam și scufundări (yey! scuba diving) pe acolo, in lumea mea, iar apa mă facea să mă simt bine, sportiv si mustind de viață. Ce bine e să fii un cartof gras si apos. Apoi la un moment dat m-am simtit un pic obosit. Am vazut ca pielea mi se ridase. Mă scofalcisem de tot si-am batut la o ușă să primesc gazduire. Mi-a deschis un ou fiert, care in ciuda aspectului spânos, și-a facut milă de mine și m-a culcat in beci. Era bine acolo, doar un pic cam intuneric și mirosea ranced și mucegăios. Am adormit și dormeam...când la un moment dat, mi-am dat seama de ce mă primise oul la el: SĂ MĂ MĂNÂNCE!!!. M-am trezit cu fiori reci pe șira spinării. Evident eram tot eu, diana...

Rutina normală a zilei spatii blank peste pagini nescrise. M-am trezit din nou pe malul râului, cocoțzată pe-o banca ca sa ma apar de zapada din jur. Reguli nescrise, ca intr-o poveste. Dacă te lași atins, zapada o sa te inghită. E prea mult alb din asta contaminat. Cafeua fierbinte imi apară mainile de ingheț. Privesc apa ducând la vale bucați mari de gheața ca din poliester, unele peste altele, planșete bizare si curat-murdare de un ingheț translucid-gri. Bucațile mari plutesc lent, lent, extrem de lent, curg către stânga in partea opusă a râului. Pe partea de râu, A MEA, dansează grațios o compoziție glaciala in sens opus curgerii. Dansează, plutește, respiră, se mișcă și mai lent decât celelate planșete, de parcă linii nevazute o ancoreaza de banca mea. In câmpul meu vizual, printre gene, in partea de sus, se impletesc ramificațiile negre si delicate ale unui copac. Infipte in cer și in imaginea cu apa și gheata ca și cum ar forma un plămân. (imaginați-va un plaman power point cu textura de apa si cer). Ramurile se infig ca un sistem vascular intr-o ființa. Culoare sunet, dans, gheața plutind la vale, aer, respirația mea. Ramân nemișcată. Tac. Ramurile copacului se infig și in mine. Mă concentrez și incerc sa vad sunetele din jurul meu. Mă uit la ele de aproape, unul dupa altul și apoi la toate de-odata. Incerc să șterg granițele trupului meu asa cum am șters granițele dintre zgomote, imagini si respirație. Sunt in ou. Incep să ma mișc. Planșeta de gheața s-a deplasat nebănuit de mult.

Timpul...Nu timp ar trebui sa spunem, ci mișcare. E atâta mișcare in noi și in jurul nostru că nu o putem măsura. Ca să ne relativizăm mișcarile ne-am luat drept reper mișcarea acelor pe cadran. Dansul obiectelor mari. Dans. Viața e un dans. Deasupra acestui spectacol trebuie sa ne ridicam intr-un alt trup de timp, pentru a ne putea bucura de priveliște. Divina priveliște a mișcărilor repetitive.

Deja aerul metafizico-tonic care mă inconjura a inceput să se epuizeze in Charma de incărcătura neutra a biroului gri-aglomerat-stiintzifico-neamț. Porii suprarealiști
ai fiintzei mele fantezi se inchid incet ca sa nu prindă praf. Latopurile torc un tors artificial nesanatos emitzand unde ce-mi polarizează aura electro-crepuscular:bzzz..bzzz..intru in priză și ma lansez in lumea artificială. Pana la urmatoarea revelație bio, am sa devin roboțel, in visul cuiva din viitor, sper.

Monday, 12 July 2010

38 de grade. short break. scurta izbucnire noroasa.

Peste noapte se intinde furtuna. Ploua nervos si scurt, punctat cu fulgere ce spinteca si sfasie si rup si cerul crapa ca un pepene mult prea copt. Dulce, ce dulce trebuie sa fie furtuna. Dupa ce se crapa cerul cum este la miez? Samburii sunt stelele astea improscate pe care le-am filmat in weekend si am facut un timelaps. Cu fatza pistruiata a cerului rotndu-se in sensul acelor de ceasornic. Am mancat un kg de cirese si unul de inghetzata si m-am uitat la nori. Ma intrebam cand se va pune de furtuna. A plouat ca intr-un cuptor. Acuma strada e plina de aburi. Si e ca si cum ne-am bagat la sauna cu totii, cu plopii mari, cu semafoare, cu masina si cu mansardele caselor. Savurez si apoi ma intreb cu spirit de posesie ascutzit. cam cat costa furtuna?