Evolution

D-12, inevitably everything accelerates

I have started the concrete preparation of these 5 upcoming dates at GeneratorI'm only talking about the material aspect of things, since the reflection on these projects is still ongoing. I am only talking about the material aspect of things, since the reflection on these Attraction parks naturally began in the wake of The Fleece sleeps given in January 2012 in this same space, of which what we are going to create in April is naturally the continuation. Something like D-480, therefore, until the date of the premiere, 20 April 2013.

480 days for 5 dates; a ratio of 9600 %; enough to make you shudder.

That's what we call event work today. Of course, this calculation is partly wrong, because if we played for 100 days, the preparation would not be proportionally 20 times longer. But it is only partly true, because my system is such that I cannot imagine being satisfied with a single 'finished' form on a project like this, which would only have to be replayed until it was exhausted, as is usually the case in the theatre. Nothing prevented me from doing so. However, in the framework offered by the Generator, the reiteration of a finished object seems impossible to me, unless the infinite rotation of this object on itself constitutes the performance in itself.

That's the way it is. I can't fully explain it at the moment, being too new to this art called performance nowadays. It is an art form that is difficult to define, protean and often unclassifiable; it is perhaps its very nature to be unclassifiable and what distinguishes it from theater in the performing arts.

The performance, in this case, that I am proposing through this project, is undoubtedly not due to the burden of preparation that it inflicts on me prior to its existence - otherwise I would still be 'performing', so to speak, doing the work that normally falls to a team of several people and skills all the time over the last few years - but rather to the fact of giving birth to a 'new' work that is not only a work of art, but also a work of art in itself. matrix capable of producing an infinite number of representations.

Thus The Parks are so to speak, evolution from The Fleece in the sense understood in the series PokémonThis is a stage evolved to the next degree of the same species.

From this point of view, I feel that the matrix behaves like a queen of ants. Dozens and dozens of babies are born daily on my desk, all viable. All I have to do is feed them to make them usable in turn, which I am careful not to do, otherwise I will implode for their benefit. These tough little beasts do not die of starvation. Like some insect larvae or cereal seeds, they are capable of waiting in their present appearance for years and years before surfacing when conditions become favourable. I am not talking about ideas that I will knowingly or carelessly leave to mature through my notes or in a drawer of my brain. I am talking about embryonic creations that are ready to be used if we wake them up from their slumber.

I was theorising about a factory that could produce art form in industrial quantitiesor rather, agriculturalThe first texts had started to "come" two years before, and I am now on the verge of achieving this. I lack the arms and the means to finance this intensive production, which is currently at the stage of prototype. Cloning, during this period, not having made the expected progress, I have to make do with my two hands and the very average energy I can provide them to shape my invention. I do have the collaboration of knowledgeable partners for the performances and the efficient help of the staff of the place that welcomes me, but it is much sooner that a team should be formed to give life to what fundamentally motivates me.

As with the pre-production of a film, a lot of elements, sounds, images, videos, props and sets, costumes, book research, casting and location scouting would have to be put into play to produce something that would be satisfactory from my point of view.

I often worked very quickly to achieve some semblance of a similar effect, accumulating as much data as possible in short periods of time, sacrificing what seemed superfluous, such as learning the text, long before it became a logical fad, in the same way that solos This is also for reasons of time and money, which are inextricably linked. Although theatre is a curious industry, which has always cost more than it brings in, it is nonetheless subject to the same fateful law as others striving to be lucrative, that time is money. In this case, to compensate for the lack of an adequate budget, I add two strings to my bow: on the one hand, the participation of the voluntary public, sometimes solicited in this sense through the pages of this site, and on the other hand, the myriad of coincidences that will inevitably result from the presence of unforeseen and anticipated factors. I would probably not proceed in this way if I had the leisure to make and design a hundred times more elements than I can create with the means at my disposal. Not to question the taste I've been developing for many years for the mixture of precise wills, improvisation and carelessness, but to better study each object that appears - the little larvae I was talking about - and to try to bring each one to completion. For the time being, these will be sketches, outlines, lines scribbled by each participant, all gestures to which I attach great importance in the light of this project and which I all the more aspire to look at and show under the magnifying glass of a magnifying glass. The infinite work of an entomologist or bacteriologist, in which every behaviour is a clue to be followed. This is why I find theatrical performance - not rehearsal work - crude or poor.

I need much more today than a few actors, however good they may be, giving each other a line in good intelligence with a view to an optimum result, for me to be stimulated. I need, not to follow, but on the contrary, to lose myself or rather, to be lost by what is happening or not happening. This uncertainty, this imperfection so typical of creative work, often fully exists during the implementation, a period during which the relaxation of the people and an infinite number of "blunders" often make them express the best and most interesting of their being. In any case, this is what I always find. From this point of view, actors can be wonderful people, infinitely rich, deep and funny when they don't worry about their image in the bad sense of the word, i.e. the image they believe to be "good" for them. The more experienced ones, however, know how to dive wisely under the surface to look for the unexpected They have to ignore them the rest of the time to keep them fresh.

In spite of this, whether it is a desire to do well or a disastrous taste for achievement, most of the time, what the actors and directors present is a pitiful caricature of acting, with a taste as dubious as a copy of Henri IV's furniture.

The greatest performers sometimes go astray. I have famous names in mind that I have seen operate at a distance from their undeniably real talent. And why? Because, although they never stop talking about instant valueThe challenge of public performance, with its many subtleties and nuances, pushes them to put these great virtues at the service of re-enactment rather than creation.

We then inevitably witness the copy in place of the original which did not take place. And for good reason, it is left behind, with the jumble of everything that is cleared away before the guests arrive.

You were preparing to have an unforgettable meal and you find yourself putting all your energy into ironing the tablecloth.

One is naturally entitled to find my feelings fanciful or questionable, but I maintain that the very notion of representation It nips creation in the bud if you care about it as something exceptional. And it is not the little "shit" or other unbearable nonsense thrown out before the ritual - no doubt to make oneself believe that one has a profession or belongs to a social group - that makes things better. Nothing is worse in my eyes than ceremony imposed before ceremony.

I don't deny the extremely singular character of the public performance at all. But does it need to be so ridiculous and stuffy, even in modest or contemporary performances? Social appearances are always there at the right moment, to remind everyone that it's time to pull up their pants. They dream of the expected reward, of the fervent applause at the end, of the benevolent nods at the exit, of the warm embraces that are barely underlined, when they are not swooning to thank the Virgin, or of the knowing glances, full of cold intelligence on the part of the spectator, signifying that he or she has all understood. There are even those who boast, it seems, that they only play for these moments.

I don't spit on smiles of satisfaction, I don't despise the emotions aroused, I absolutely respect the reticence towards what I propose and I return the blow for aggressive criticism and injection for injection of venom disguised as sweet liquor. What's more, I am enthusiastic when I read or hear generous and positive opinions which lead me to believe that their author has understood, beyond what I hoped, in his flesh and in his intellect, the substance I have produced. But all these results are only of real value insofar as they contribute to the expansion, however small, of the object in question and raise the level of the flow that allows it to move forward. In other words, for me, representation is only meaningful in relation to creation if, through its execution, it alleviates the conditions for the next birth.

I don't have the humility to need the acquiescence of others to be interested in what I do and to give it value. The opposite would seem to me to be utter nonsense.

The performance is a wonderful moment if it is experienced as a release from all the constraints that precede it, but it is no more important than any other stage of creation, as long as one is inhabited by a project and not by the preoccupation of the single event that is going to happen. Last year, my team and I talked about "formality".

Whether you are a designer or just an actor, it is a question of keeping all the periods of gestation within yourself so that their accumulation presses until the fruit of the efforts that have gone through them is expelled.

In no case, in my view, should we seek to "remake".

What could be simpler then, than not to have done at all? In the same way that an expedition is meticulously prepared but not repeated other than by simulating it, the adventure in 'public' land demands to have understood everything about the route, but rejects the idea of copying one's sketches as a journey. The formality is therefore fascinating, if it is added to the long journey that in reality forms the body of the animal since its conception. Seen in this way, as an additional stage in its growth and evolution, one comes to dream again of the creature's shape, wondering whether on that day, once "in front of everyone", it will grow a third head or yet another toe on its right hind leg. The main thing is that the poetry, which is its pittance, does not run out so that, from the excrescences of its epidermis, these little dwarf creatures spring up live, as in a laboratory, and I alone, within my four walls, try to contain their proliferation as much as I try to disseminate them on the Web.