A troupe that does not exist left behind masks to allow viewers to see the primordial connection between humanity and nature. This is an immersive theater, where familiar textures — ceramics, metal, wood — as if encountered in travels but not tied to any map, fix the gaze for a new reading. Here everything flows: a balbal bearing traces of a foreign alphabet, an ornament that turns out to be a razor, a tile leading off to where the road ends but movement continues.

Shakhoyan juggles a multilayered play of textures and meanings, creating an effect of recognition. He transforms forms whose nature remembers its own origin: the temperature and pressure, the moment when control is released. The project organically combines exhibition and theatrical technologies. The dark space in which the viewer finds themselves absorbs the usual sense of the boundaries of one's own body, and only the light of profile spotlights catches the recognizable contours of the masks and panels hanging in the air. The image cuts into consciousness before the mind has time to comprehend it.

Sound, as a state, woven from real rather than synthesized noises, envelops the viewer, immersing them in contemplative anticipation, when time has not yet moved from its place but is already ready to change its usual course. An intuitive understanding arises of the rules of the game with Eternity, where some works can be touched, and in the transformation of the face one can catch a method that is not revealed but invites reflection. The mask is no longer a face, but a landscape of an event taking place right here and now.