In the beginning was the light, then the egg yolk … The yellow form, hungry for life, buoyantly throws itself into the world, stretching, jumping back and forth. The space grows bigger and gains depth; the playing field expands. Drifting curiously to Latin-American rhythms gradually turns into a restless, frantic rush accompanied by hyperventilating breakbeats. The yellow ball is reduced to a narrow, hasty brushstroke racing through the black cosmos, whizzing past turbulent colours and shapes – and vanishing. Using nothing but abstraction, “Tutaro” brings a small personality into the world and follows its path equally tenderly and uncompromisingly.

André Eckardt