Let’s begin by taking a big breath.
Meet Bigag and the Bando — two siblings or settings of scenes from a green-thumbed family— in this show as value-producing ritual. Both raised to be passive obsessive about claiming space, the nonetheless differing, lingering legacies of their upbringing emerge as they meet again for what, to some, might look like an impromptu reunion. In fact, they are often in touch, sharing countless covert moments through their many enterprises.
What they do the whole day is capture the sun’s energy. In the case of Bigag, his life is filled with crops and livestock, including but not limited to Factory Farms, Concentrated Animal Feeding Operations, and Puppy Mills. Always on the lookout for a little (more) greenback, he is busy selling to the world, not feeding it, for which the seed is a brilliant vessel. So Bigag, known around town for wanting to get big or get out, sows his promises and plants his exit strategies.
With her tendency towards blue-green blues (may cause many short-term health harms, like vomiting, diarrhea, and sore throat, as well as longer-term damage, including liver failure and cancer), the Bando is inclined to isolate. Still, there are always micro-organisms in massive groups about, living, like the Bando, with the dizzied feeling of having limbs tugged by strangers. They do not sexually reproduce, they simply divide, and sometimes create an excessive richness of nutrients.
As they try to find the space for both of them to thrive, they struggle with their toxic family dynamic. Competitors from birth, the communication tends to sour. Accused of fostering blooming dead zones, the Bando hears the term “pond scum” bandied about, though no one seems to mind a synthesized landscape or her brother’s involvement. She hurries as slow as she can, and he continues expanding. In this, according to Bigag, best of possible worlds, all that is very well. Here they were all, they could be — just green to you.
— Caroline Marie Ballegaard
