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An Evening Or Another
Dance Theatre Sounds Gone Taken Words Buto Amnesias
10:15 A.M. 10 SEPTEMBER 2019
After love
I'm still thinking about it.
Because Black David's art is of absolute honesty. In addition to being overflowing, singular. Nothing backstage and make-up on sight, all unpacked and naked. The scenic effects are obvious (For example why not start with the late Agnès Varda, since everyone loves nice old ladies).... The masks remain masks, the bodies remain bodies, the sexes remain sexes, the voices sing live. All unpredictable (rather than improvised). No more question here of yielding to the facilities of fiction, incarnation and continuity. Just the weight of the situations, the shock of the images. The result can be experienced by some as provocative... For me this attitude shows a high form of respect for the spectator. With few material means, a blockbuster production abounds in 3D: dozens of characters, a crazy set, video, a real cake, a pianist, raw poetry and animals.
Because it's so moving. Of infinite sadness. Which doesn't rule out laughter. It's about love again. True love, at the end of its impulses, to the point of obscenity and pornography, to beyond bad taste, once all the rose water has been stripped off. The piece is played in heart-rending variations on Michel Sardou's song "Un accident". Often the nudity says what only nudity can say, and the costumes speak too.
Because "Mobil'Homme" says every moment, and in all intensity, to happen "after". After the accident, after the separation, after the divorce, after the end of illusions, after post-modernity, after the end of history, after the reduction of subsidies and the death of culture, after the fall of the wall, after global warming. After the presentation of the day before, which, it seems, was even stronger. A post-proposal. At the moment, what remains to be said when everything has already been said? Otherwise, to say it again, even louder, and dare in all directions. Extract and stir up memories of a past that is slipping away out of sight like the shore. A number of sacred, sublime and outmoded monsters arise in the disorder, which no longer frighten, still dream: Mister Hyde and Nosferatu, Marilyn and Dracula, Kirk Douglas and the Frankenstein monster, the chainsaw killer and the tooth shark, others still... Perhaps without knowing it, we are all dead, but looking back we remember having been alive.
Mobil'homme by David Noir seen at Gentilly Generator May 20, 2019
Guy
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Link to the article on Guy Degeorges's blog, Un Soir ou un Autre
