I have an impressive
backlog of blog posts that I still haven’t actually got round to writing up,
let alone posting on the internet planet. So, here’s one on a truly other-worldly
set of marionnette/mime spectacles that
I saw in the spring time, as part of this year’s Orbis Pictus festival in Reims .
The festival is organized
by David Girondin Moab, founder of the Compagnie
Pseudonymo, and qualified marionnettiste from the ESNAM (Ecole Supérieure Nationale des Arts de la Marionnette) at Charleville-Mézières,
and Angélique Friant, founder of Succursale
101.
For the past five years Orbis Pictus has been held in the illustrious
setting of the Palais du Tau. Indeed,
the archbishops’ palace once accommodated future kings of France prior to their
coronation – la cérémonie du sacre - in
the cathedral of Notre-Dame.
Today, for
the duration of the Orbis Pictus festival at least, the palace houses a variety
of strange beings in its banquet halls, regal anti-chambers, and chapels. The world of la scène is explored in its different
aspects with performances which draw all the arts together to great effect; dance,
mime, acting, puppetry, plastic arts, music and lighting. Some of these were
loud, boisterous and humourous, others quiet, atmospheric and haunting. All played
on the senses , using irony, introspection and the unexpected to make us
question where art and life, the real and unreal begin and end. The two spectacles that I moved me the most were
just incredible, well, breath-taking...
La Femme Blanche, performed by Canadian artist Magali Chouinard, was literally
hypnotic. Rows of adults and children alike were squeezed into the floor space
of the majestic chapel, yet instead of being distracted by their digital
gadgetry, and therefore a distraction to the artistry, everyone was mesmerized.
The silence was a pin-dropping absolute and even the slightest click of a
camera seemed utterly irreverent. Without words, the White Woman drew in her
captive audience as she drew out the various objects from her suitcase,
liberating these and giving life to their forms. The portraits of the adult, the
child, wolf and crow were intertwined in tender tableaux vivants as the puppet
forms and puppet master were blurred.
The White Woman animated all around her, centring
herself around a shrouded, skeletal tree, with a benevolent Georges Méliès-style moon face
suspended from its branches.
The silence of the performance and its monochrome
colours completed the ethereal ambiance. I can’t even remember how long this
lasted, but it was if the audience had drawn in their breath at the beginning
and only breathed again at the very end, when the spectacle ended with a flutter of origami bird forms, composed of
written texts.
The performance, Kumo, was equally astounding and also
made the audience catch their breath. Yet, as the incredible mime and illusion
artist, Romain Lalire, spun a visual web in front of our eyes, the show was
punctuated by sighs of disbelief and appreciation. This amazing artist
seemingly floated into position, in the great banquet hall of the Palais du Tau.
Dressed in a striking black
costume, that was of a timeless, genderless form, he proceeded to strike us all
dumb with Kumo. This was no
rabbit-from-a-hat show; the magician was not only master of the art, he became
part of this magic, as he himself seemed to evaporate and then take form in the
effects he was creating. Kumo,
meaning cloud in Japanese, certainly had the audience held captive in the weightless
density of its trompe-d’oeil effects,
offset by atmospheric music.
The following clip won’t
do the performance full justice, however it will perhaps enable others to discover
the world of Romain Lalire. Past and future performances and projects can be
followed on the artist's site.
The powerful mix of
artistic medium and effect took me back to my childhood experience of Footsbarn
Theatre, and not, as it happens, by chance. A number of the performing artists at Orbis Pictus had been influenced to a greater or lesser degree by the essence of Footsbarn.
Little did I know when I went to
watch their great adaptation of Midsummer Night’s Dream in 1976, on Newlyn
Green in Cornwall, that I would see the modern-day Footsbarn Theatre group
performing here in France almost forty years on.
As a child, the magic of the
experience was the unique atmosphere. The Footsbarn big tent was surrounded by
inflatable castles and various stands, all of which were positioned between the
rather staid bowling grounds and Orion art gallery. This was a case of art and
theatre, but not as people knew it, and here was freedom for children and
teenagers but not as we’d previously known it either. I can remember the fuggy
ambiance of the tent, with the performers looking like living gargoyles or
characters from Chaucer (not that I really knew much about either at that age).
The adults and children alike were taken over by the infectiously liberating
spirit of the event. This bawdy display of updated Shakespearean humour was accessible
to all; in fact, the title of the work had been changed in order not to
discourage the locals and ended up as Midsummer’s
Madness. Just as magically as they had arrived, Footsbarn packed up and left
again, to travel around Cornwall, bringing art to their public in other unusual rural
venues that departed from the more traditional, haughty settings.
If we thought this first
taste of Footsbarn Theatre was a revelation, when the troupe returned as part
of the Festival of Fools in 1980 and set
up camp on the other side of Penzance, we thought Woodstock had arrived in town.
At that time I don’t think Glastonbury Festival was the iconic event that it is
today, or certainly was not for young teenagers then. Here again, Footsbarn
sought to reach its grass-roots audience, and could do no better than the
fields of Ponsandane camp site. The festival offered craft markets, art
workshops, side shows, games, music, food stands, beer tents and theatre.
Sadly, the magic didn’t last; Footsbarn Travelling Theatre took to the high
road, leaving Cornwall and indeed England in order to cover the six continents. In 1991, Footsbarn based themselves in a farm in the Auvergne region of France,
finally deserting the Cornish barn that the theatre community had used for
rehearsals since their formation with Oliver Foot and Jonathan Cook in 1971.
It
is from there that the troupe still prepares its work today, albeit with a far
more international set of performers than in its early days. I took the
children to see Sorry at the Manège
de Reims in 2010 and spoke to one of the original Footsbarn performers from the
Cornish days when they used to parade in the streets, singing…
Footsbarn has come to town,
Jugglers, acrobats and clowns.
Footsbarn has come to town,
All the children dance around.
Come and see, it's a very funny play
We'll put on for you today.
Seven o'clock the show begins,
Up my kneecaps, down your shins.
