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The sounds and voices of creations recorded live or elaborated in the studio. Do-it-yourself sounds, tinkering with the senses, the futile emotion of puns.
Clue! It is childhood that kills childhood. In the nursery, I accuse emotion with imagination and fear. On the spot, summary execution at the edge of the pit. Welcome home! You are back in the Camps of Amor.
Tentative de parole mise en forme de journal de bord durant une résidence à Anis Gras avant la création de "Les Camps de l'Amor" au Générateur de Gentilly.
In my naked girl's tights, wearing my big helmet with ram's horns, I marry the forest. I drool over the nourishing earth. Inside the still life, a blurred road carries me. Far from the rodeos I go away.
Emma was laughing without anyone being able to guess what she was laughing about. Her mouth was forming words, but their sounds were inaudible, absorbed into the mass, the luscious mass of her well-fed face.
Ladies and gentlemen, following a strike movement by a certain category of a personal nature, we are not in a position to present you with the planned programme. We apologize for the inconvenience.
There's the work that we don't do, that makes other works do... that feeds them all the time... the great mass that is huge... it's beautiful... good night...
On the occasion of the creation of the Parques d'attraction, Any Tingay, Anne Dreyfus and I are invited to stay a full night at the Hotel Paradoxe
Man-woman, bestial child, woman-child... the palette of identities emerges through the animality and mythologies of our species.
