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LAÏ LAÏ LAÏ LAÏ Production 2008 Choreographical project by Laurence Yadi, Nicolas Cantillon in collaboration with Alexandre Joly and Régis Marduel Interpretation: Nicolas Cantillon, Alexandre Joly, Régis Marduel, Laurence Yadi Lighting design: Jean-Philippe Roy Costumes realisation: Mathilde Gallay Keller, Maria Galvez Guitar and songs: Nicolas Cantillon Sound environment: Alexandre Joly Artistic collaboration: Graziella Jouan Production : Compagnie 7273 (Switzerland – France) Coproduction: Les Subsistances, Lyon (F), O Espaco do Tempo, Montemor-o-novo (P), Dampfzentrale, Berne (CH), Gessnerallee, Zurich (CH) Supports: Pro Helvetia – Fondation Suisse pour la culture, Etat de Genève – Département de l’instruction publique, Ville de Genève – Département des affaires culturelles, Loterie romande, DRAC Rhône-Alpes, Stanley Thomas Johnson Foundation, Conseil Général de la Haute-Savoie et Fondation Corymbo / mediathek tanz.ch Places of creation: Studios de l’ADC, Genève - Les Subsistances, Lyon - O Espaco do Tempo, Montemor-o-novo The dance as an urge to play After the solitary incandescence of Climax, the company 7273 proposes a piece for four dancers, Laï laï laï laï, which places the spectator in an undefined space between folk concert and phantasmagoria. At the origin of the project was an aspiration of the company to put themselves to the test, to depart from their speciality and venture into musical composition and song. A wish to distort or misrepresent themselves, to become clumsy and awkward, to claim a form of innocence as the regenerating principle of creation. Following the example of Henri Michaux whose practice as a painter completed the inadequacies of the poetic language: “It is for having liberated me from words, those clinging partners, that my drawings soar upwards and are almost joyful. In them I see a new language, turning their back on the verbal, the liberators” (Mouvements). This change of register works well: the usual vocabulary of the company, rather minimalist, henceforth makes full use of all the resources of stage design. Beginning with the folk music, original guitar composition played live by Nicolas Cantillon and sung by him in gibberish, a deliberate desire to distance himself from the posture of “singer with a message”. It is a matter of understatement. Folk music, with its libertarian breath, is sufficiently eloquent, rich in evocative inspiration for the spectacle. Buttoned up tight in his sixties costume, Nicolas Cantillon is the mediator with another world, a sort of smuggler David Lynch style. The concert structures the space within which three characters disport themselves: Laurence Yadi, Alexandre Joly and Régis Marduel offer us a vision of fauns wearing masks, hairpieces and homespun frocks. Three hieroglyphs, three intermediary creatures, three monstrous representatives of a forgotten territory: the psychological power of the costume which accomplishes a kind of return to the origins, in the manner of a dream. On this carpet, a veritable playground, relationships can be woven between these characters ; an interplay of forms that invites chance and the encounter with the others. Such as this sequence where the creatures play solitaire, as if to set our feet on the path of an ancestral rule, but only on the path because the play distils a pre-reflexive climate, both primitive and bathing the spectator in a state of dream-like consciousness: “There is something that participates like a magic operation in this intense liberation of signs (…)” (Antonin Artaud Le théâtre et son double). Punctuating the action, a sound track orchestrated by Alexandre Joly, whose acuity and shrewdness work wonders here, seems to subtract a little more reality from the play and refer to a score that has been partly effaced. Laï laï laï laï functions like an open programme whose constituents produce fantasies. Far from all fossilized nostalgia, the company invites us to a rite of passage, both stimulating and salutary. "Come a little bit closer (…) just like children sleeping (…) we can dream this night away (…) because I'm still in love with you I wanna see you dance again…" Neil Young, Harvest moon. Graziella Jouan |
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