Sticky fingers in a hot pile of mud – getting your hands dirty. Other things grow here. You touch them because their textures allure you. Soaked with earthy scents your hands are wet. They slide along systems of roots: a web, a thread, a link. You click on it. A virus has no shape on its own. It hijacks to reproduce. Material collapsing into 0 and 1, breaking bodies down. Thrusting itself forward the virus plants the haunted, the hacked, the hybrid. It binds through contamination, infiltrates to infect – to affect. “rp19”, this year’s edition of the choreographic festival with students of the Gießen MA program Choreography and Performance (CuP) who occupy the Mousonturm, is meshed in a decade of sediments. Leaking, unfinished, rough – they seep into Mousonturm: mutations taking over the building and getting visible in short pieces, installations, interventions and open formats.