Rally co-drivers speak a different language, a language built to make misunderstanding impossible. It is a characteristic common to all technical languages (such as the semaphore flag waving system or the words of the international alphabet): clarity and biunique correspondence of terms, each word only and always meaning one thing, no room for interpretation. It is this very characteristic that, paradoxically, makes the co-driver language a fascinating canvas upon which to create a story based on its mis-interpretation.
I have taken the voice of the co-driver recorded live during a rally and I have wrapped a narrative around it. In the voice of the co-driver you can detect tension (suspended time at a minute to start, hand locked in a tight fist at 30 seconds) and the reassuring guidance that comes from experience (control the adrenaline flow, manage the pilot’s emotions through a rhythm, releasing or increasing the urgency of commands).
Similarly to the exchange between two sad lovers created using the semaphore flag waving system, I have taken the disambiguous language of the rally co-driver and I have made it ambiguous, distorting its original meaning to serve my story. The world of the co-driver (with all its certainties) collides with the world of someone unable to understand directions. I was curious to see what happens when the co-driver meets the woman who is pathologically unable to orient herself, someone who still has nightmares about getting lost as a child, a woman who cannot sleep if the day after she has to go in a place she has never been before, someone constantly lost on the way home.
The audioplay is in Italian. I would love to replicate it in English but I haven’t been able to find a suitable co-driver audio yet.