Someone sneezes. Someone misses the bus. Someone tells a secret. Someone doesn’t go to the door. Someone left an elephant on the stairs. Someone isn’t ready to talk. Someone is their own brother’s mother. Someone hates irrational numbers. Someone told the police. Someone received a message from the traffic lights. Someone has never felt this way before. In this dizzying whirl of rapid movements, more than a hundred characters try to make sense of what they are experiencing.

‘Love and Information’ by English playwright Caryl Churchill is an unusual but deeply familiar dramatic text, without a clear plot and refusing any kind of linear interpretation. Between channel surfing and Instagram, the rapid succession of fragmentary scenes finds cohesion precisely – and as the title indicates – in ‘love’ and ‘information’, themes around which scenes and characters gravitate. It is a play written in and for the age of information (and disinformation).

This dramatic text by Caryl Churchill incorporates, in its (de)structure, the fundamental idea it seeks to represent – the dizzying instability and impermanence of the present, on which we base our existences. The rapid technological development of recent decades has created new ways of relating to the reality in which we live, in which it appears more fragmented and dispersed, and in which the boundaries between the real and the virtual, the far and the near, truth and falsehood, become blurred and these concepts merge indistinctly.