The analogy between the death camps and totalitarianism in love gradually takes on its full meaning, with a surprising finesse.
BANCAL Magazine | Mathieu Huot | Hello sadness
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Sometimes I have the rare and precious impression of witnessing a revolution through art. David Noir is certainly one of those who make it possible.

In The Amor camps, The spectator enters a space lined with huge aluminium curtains that rustle under a cold light. For 2h30, David Noir makes a series of proposals, costumes, texts, songs, jokes, addresses to the public, like a kid in a playground, in an apparent chaos where nothing is there by chance. He parodies a lecture on Hannah Arendt, makes the audience read a myriad of texts rolled up in Tables of Law, massacres love songs, plays with false bottoms and wigs, deflates a blow-up doll's mass grave...

A spectator, visibly happy to be there, gets as naked as David Noir and listens, peacefully, to his belly and folds simply exposed to the eyes of all. Hidden behind one of the walls, his musician Christophe Imbs improvises on keyboards and electronic boxes - a continuous, stubborn music, which only listens to itself, establishing from the outset, a form of confusion, of saturation, and which tells, deep down, the difficulty of taking charge of the other.

What civility wants, animality fucks.

Thought, as daring as form, is the key to success: in order to put an end to the totalitarian obligation to love, let's prefer esteem to it. The analogy between the death camps and totalitarianism in love gradually takes on its full meaning, with a surprising finesse. No lesson is given here, simply the humble portrait of a man who tries, against all odds, not to crack, not to scream in disgust at all the manipulations in the name of love, at the negation of the individual in his difference. Someone who tries not to lose his self-esteem and that of others.

It is apparently playful, light, joyful - and yet one feels violence, infinite sadness, with tact, benevolence and gentleness. From the potache to the tragedy, there is only one step, and David Noir, a subtle tightrope walker, stays on this paradox without ever resolving it for us. In this space, the spectator is left free to wander, to go out, to come back, and to give his attention and his time to whomever he wants : video, game, music, scenography, texts abandoned here and there. He is an actor as much as the performers, completes the picture without realizing it, wherever he is, and tells himself his own story, follows his own thoughts and daydreams without ever being told what to look at or listen to or how he should take it.

 Storytelling is dead!

Rarely has a show trusted the spectator so much. As much in its capacity to receive, to feel, as in its capacity to understand, and to act, in all responsibility. It has been two years since I discovered the work of David Noir. At first I wasn't sure I liked it, but I was sure of one thing: rarely had a performance questioned me so much. And indeed, for the past two years, his work has been living in me, it's been bothering me, pushing me to my limits and forcing me not to take anything for granted. The more I go back, from one performance to the next, the more I see a space where I can recharge my batteries during the year.

For several years now, the Generator team has been welcoming and actively supporting him. This year, you have just missed it, but good news: in addition to the 5 dates that have just ended, the new performance The camps of Amor will be held at Anis Gras from March 3 to 7 at 7:30 pm.

Run for it. Run to see what was and is for me, really, a time bomb, an inner turnaround. I believe that something important is happening there - artistically, in form, in thought, in deed, in short, humanly.

Mathieu Huot, member of the collective Open Source

The camps of Amorfrom March 3 to 7 in Anis Gras (Arcueil), design and game by David Noir, music by Christophe Imbs

The Generator, places of art and performance,

Anis Gras, the place of the other

David Noir

David Noir, performer, actor, author, director, singer, visual artist, video maker, sound designer, teacher... carries his polymorphous nudity and his costumed childhood under the eyes and ears of anyone who wants to see and hear.

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