I quite liked “dear shadows”…
I could also have called it “The Flying Fishing Hooks,” “The House of Rains,” or a few other words that also belonged to the show … The struggle between “the fish hooks” and “the umbrellas” was particularly violent over the last few months, as the artists and I felt the first night approaching … “the fish hooks”were “inflamed,”“melancholic,”“strange,”“wounded,” “wild” … but the umbrella finally prevailed.
photo: Richard Haughton
It cannot unfold in the warmth of houses … it protects us from our storms … we close it when all is over … and it never willingly turns its coat…
A rain eclipse … the umbrella…
Well, what’s the story about? It’s a story about a story (about a story about a story about a story…) that cannot be told.
It’s a very intimate story, and therefore very demure, almost wild! It belongs at the beginning, when one being loves another, and seasons waltz backwards … against the beat, against time. Right up against it.
Burning the candle at both ends, round we go again! We can do it on the merry-go-round ... and also in theatre. This is what illusion-makers believe.
Winding back the clock…
Back to a point where a choice can be made?
Back to a point where things can be prevented? Where harm can be avoided?
Getting old. Getting young. Laughing or dying?
At least one woman, at least one man, and at least one surprise, a stranger, a snag … two or three attempts … a pretty smile, a frown … many setbacks of course … and also … love, madness, a child, death, reason, dancing … all breathless, to the point of exhaustion?
Am I forgetting anything?
Yes! Life! Hope! Escape! Whoops! Obstinacy!
So … see you in a moment.
(the May bug)