LE DIMANCHE LES FLEURS POUSSENT PLUS VITE
(flowers grow faster on Sundays)
Juggler solo... and a Batman
(1h20/ theater stage)
Le dimanche les fleurs poussent plus vite (flowers grow faster on Sundays)...
... Is a juggled theater show, burlesque and dramatic for a man who is, sometimes an artist offering a juggling performance, sometimes an everyday man in his kitchen in between two departures, between a saucepan and a cupboard.
The man artist spends most of his time on the road, uses his kitchen as a refuge, of this place dear to him, he knows every corners. Like a sailor coming back to the port, he comes back to his interior; his house makes him feel safer. But just like the sailor, his life is somewhere else…
Being a juggler is having another relationship with time and things. In that re-created space, following the rhythms of the items being thrown up in the air and falling back down, magic occurs. This magic takes sometimes effect without being initiated, without knowing where it came from, but always occurs in a silent, fugitive, fragile instant, it’s magic that rules the world…and the juggler is one of its most humble servants.
When he gets back to his kitchen, it is a little bit of himself that gets back to, his every day life. This is where he does everything like everyone. This is where he confides, keeps busy, organizes himself, but because of a slight absent-minded nature, things very often slip through his fingers…
Two scenes, two worlds. In a place that the back and forth rhythms transform, taking this man from one scene to the other one, these two world fit together and get tangle up and are being embodied in that man-juggler.
>> Details
(flowers grow faster on Sundays)
Juggler solo... and a Batman
(1h20/ theater stage)
Le dimanche les fleurs poussent plus vite (flowers grow faster on Sundays)...
... Is a juggled theater show, burlesque and dramatic for a man who is, sometimes an artist offering a juggling performance, sometimes an everyday man in his kitchen in between two departures, between a saucepan and a cupboard.
The man artist spends most of his time on the road, uses his kitchen as a refuge, of this place dear to him, he knows every corners. Like a sailor coming back to the port, he comes back to his interior; his house makes him feel safer. But just like the sailor, his life is somewhere else…
Being a juggler is having another relationship with time and things. In that re-created space, following the rhythms of the items being thrown up in the air and falling back down, magic occurs. This magic takes sometimes effect without being initiated, without knowing where it came from, but always occurs in a silent, fugitive, fragile instant, it’s magic that rules the world…and the juggler is one of its most humble servants.
When he gets back to his kitchen, it is a little bit of himself that gets back to, his every day life. This is where he does everything like everyone. This is where he confides, keeps busy, organizes himself, but because of a slight absent-minded nature, things very often slip through his fingers…
Two scenes, two worlds. In a place that the back and forth rhythms transform, taking this man from one scene to the other one, these two world fit together and get tangle up and are being embodied in that man-juggler.
>> Details
