one last tango stages an encounter that feels both like a dance and a clash. Two band saws move toward each other, brush against one another, touch, and pull away. Their movement is not spectacular or decorative: it is tense, precise, almost painful. For this very reason, the work speaks about something deeply human.

It can be read as the image of an inner struggle, a constant tension between different parts of the self. On one side there is the Ego: the part that tries to control, to give shape, to remain balanced. On the other side there is the Self, something deeper and harder to grasp, which also contains what we cannot fully explain or control. In one last tango, these two forces never arrive at a final peace. They remain close, they attract each other, they wound each other, and then they search for each other again.

The work turns this conflict into a physical presence. The sound, the movement, the minimal distance between the blades make visible an inner suffering that often cannot be seen. It is not only a struggle against something outside of us, but a struggle that happens within, between impulse and control, between the desire for union and the impossibility of ever fully coinciding with oneself.

And yet one last tango is not only about pain. There is also a bond here, a stubborn form of relation. The two blades keep returning toward one another, as if within the clash there were also a need for recognition. For this reason, the work remains suspended between violence and intimacy, between risk and delicacy. It is a powerful image of the fact that living also means moving through one’s own contradictions, without ever being able to fully resolve them. In this sense, one last tango is also a form of hope: one last dance between a farewell and the attempt to begin again.