The unmistakable, albeit somewhat uncanny presence of Jessica is owed in large part to the medium she speaks through: a tape recorder. "I thought I wanted to have a voice from the loudspeaker asking me questions, but at that time I didn't have a phone that could record audio and recording studios were too expensive. Then I saw that my son had this old tape recorder that we bought in a flea market." There's something strangely fascinating about analogue devices and their power to transport their users to a different time and different place, and the archaic quality of the medium had an almost instant appeal to Morganti: "It's my time, my generation, so it has something to do with my story, my life."

A Cruel Art
If screwball humour and sheer virtuosity aren't enough to pique your interest, Morganti's brutal honesty will. While the veteran dancer mocks and dramatises her ageing in the piece ("I'd like to move slowly, slowly, slowly!"), she also finds it rewarding to embrace changes and persevere in an industry where ageism is endemic. "If you want to go on, you have to let go [of] a lot of your habits and you have to learn from injuries... I would say it's a very cruel art: in the moment you finally understand, through experience and long practice, how to use your body and your energy in the most efficient way, your body begins to stop following you," she says lovingly of this cruel art form, that she sees also as a lesson in life and wisdom.