#Claudia Stavisky | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

biofunmy · 5 years ago

Text

A Paris Theater Reopens, With Acrobats and Stunts

PARIS — You might call it a French welcome. On the day the venerable Théâtre du Châtelet was scheduled to reopen after a two-and-a-half-year renovation, Paris’s public transportation system was paralyzed by a strike. The much-hyped street procession to celebrate the venue’s makeover attracted only a thin crowd; inside the auditorium for the first stage performance, there were even some empty seats.

The Châtelet’s new artistic director, Ruth Mackenzie, looked unfazed when she came onstage at the end of the evening. If her goal was to entertain the attendees, she had every reason to be satisfied: “Parade,” the opening show, which encompassed outdoor and indoor performances, was big, inclusive and crowd-pleasing. On the other hand, those looking for a more fully articulated statement of artistic intent for a great Paris theater were probably disappointed.

What the new team delivered was, well, mainly a cheerful parade.

Perhaps it was unfair to expect more. Who doesn’t like oversize marionettes? Who doesn’t feel a thrill at gravity-defying acrobatics? “Parade,” directed by Martin Duncan, kept the feel-good performances coming over the course of the evening, which was divided into three parts: The outdoor festivities, led by the Marionetas Gigantes puppet company from Mozambique, were followed by a series of free installations around the Châtelet’s public spaces. Then came the main-stage performance, open only to ticket holders.

The program was loosely inspired by a famous circus-themed ballet that had its premiere at the Châtelet in 1917: “Parade,” choreographed by Léonide Massine for the Ballets Russes. References to Massine’s legendary creative partners — Jean Cocteau, Erik Satie and Pablo Picasso — abounded in this reboot. The opening procession was led by an animated “Cocteau Machine,” designed by Francis O’Connor, which looked like a three-dimensional Cocteau drawing mounted on a bicycle. Picasso’s stage curtain for the ballet, which shows circus artists enjoying a meal, also appeared in a video projection onstage.

The composer got the finest tribute, however. “Satie’s World,” the series of installations peppered throughout the theater, gave Parisians a delightfully surreal reintroduction to a much-loved venue. In the Grand Foyer, a stack of piled pianos nearly reached the ceiling, and mermaids sang as a pianist played a selection of Satie pieces. In the Diaghilev Salon, a room off the foyer, an actor playing Sergei Diaghilev, the Ballets Russes impresario, popped up for a chat in bed with his musical collaborator. Up on the theater’s grand terrace, clowns peeled potatoes for an all-white dinner, since the eccentric Satie ate only white food.

In the 1917 “Parade,” the street entertainers end up giving away all their best tricks in a bid to attract paying customers. Similarly, this modern reimagining didn’t reward those who stayed for the stage performance, an uneven, trick-heavy collage featuring mostly circus acts. Marionetas Gigantes’ puppets briefly re-emerged, followed by a segment credited to the French circus artist Stéphane Ricordel and the production company Boîte Noire and then by Streb Extreme Action, an American ensemble known for its daring physical feats.

Of the two, Mr. Ricordel’s contribution proved to be the more theatrical performance, its aerial work vividly complemented by DakhaBrakha, a Ukrainian musical quartet weaving together folk and punk influences. Tatiana Mosio Bongonga, a tightrope walker, and Alexandra Royer, seen flipping on a narrow plank and spinning on an aerial hoop, both let the music color the mood and rhythm of their performances.

Streb Extreme Action never quite achieved the same artistic spell. Their stunts are undeniably jaw-dropping — or stomach-churning, in the case of the performers rotating around a high metal pipe like a propeller, somehow held only by the soles of their heavy boots.

Still, while the company is trained in modern dance, its daredevil appeal has little to do with the Châtelet’s musical and choreographic legacy. France already has a thriving circus scene elsewhere.

In Streb’s final scene, pairs of performers tied by ropes took turns climbing a wall and performing aerial figures, acting as counterweights for each other. As dance, the back-and-forth was often visually clumsy and lacking in coordination. A French choreographer, Mourad Merzouki, taught the exact same technique to hip-hop dancers last year for “Vertikal,” a work that was seen at the Lyon Dance Biennial. He spun much more poetry out of it.

Similarly, while Marionetas Gigantes’ puppets fulfilled their purpose, the level of sophistication achieved by the French company Royal de Luxe, with their supremely well-articulated giants, is the gold standard in the country.

Ms. Mackenzie’s outlook is a global one, however, and in many ways that’s a welcome change of pace for a French national institution. Her vision is also strong on community engagement, with local amateurs involved in “Parade.” France has long valued artistic goals over outreach, and it will be fascinating to see what role the Châtelet plays on the national arts scene under her leadership.

Another recently reopened theater, La Scala Paris, inaugurated its season with more conventional fare: a new production of Brecht’s “Life of Galileo” by Claudia Stavisky. It serves as a star vehicle for an exceptional stage actor, Philippe Torreton, but he isn’t the only Galileo in town. In June, Eric Ruf staged an ornate version of the same play at the Comédie-Française, which will return at the end of this month.

The duplication doesn’t feel merely like a coincidence. The central conflicts in “Life of Galileo” — between science and religion, moral responsibility and personal comfort — speak to our moment. In the 17th-century astronomer, Brecht created a hero and an antihero at once. The character’s willingness to compromise and lie, whether to further his work or for fear of torture when the Catholic Church deems his theories unacceptable, is a reminder that factual evidence doesn’t always win the day.

Not that it makes the play an easy sell: Many scenes are static and heavy on dry scientific debate. Mr. Ruf’s production struggled to inject life into the proceedings, despite strong performances. The sumptuous sets and costumes by Christian Lacroix often felt like the raison d’être of the evening rather than a bonus. The most arresting scene had the pope being robed ever so slowly by assistants, each element of his costume exquisite in its own right, in a visual demonstration of power dressing.

Ms. Stavisky’s “Life of Galileo” looks pared down by comparison. Its simpler costumes and high walls, with faint light streaming through narrow slits, clear the way for a serious, insightful production, with nothing extraneous in Mr. Torreton’s performance.

From the beginning, when he undresses wearily after a long night of work and dunks his face in water for an uncomfortably long time, to his final encounter with a disgruntled former assistant, Mr. Torreton inhabits the role with focused simplicity. His character can’t see past his excesses — until it’s too late.

“Unhappy the land that is in need of heroes,” the elderly astronomer says shortly before the curtain falls — words that linger in the mind far longer than any stunts.

Parade. Directed by Martin Duncan. Théâtre du Châtelet. La Vie de Galilée. Directed by Claudia Stavisky. La Scala Paris, through Oct. 9. La Vie de Galilée. Directed by Eric Ruf. Comédie-Française, from Sept. 30 to Jan. 19.

Sahred From Source link Arts

from WordPress http://bit.ly/30edn7O via IFTTT

#IFTTT #WordPress

0 notes