Roslyn Oades and Bob Scott collaborated with Maureen Roberge to create a French-language version of their work. As in the other cities where the duo settled, a night line was open in Quebec for several months to collect messages from people awake between midnight and 6 a.m.
In line to attend the first performance of Night linea lady wonders if her message was remembered…
On Wednesday evening, spectators were made to wait outside the Periscope, on the access ramp side, to the right of the main entrance. A stern-looking concierge (Carmen Ferlan) appeared to give the usual instructions to the audience, who were then invited to enter the theater.
The Periscope room, plunged into semi-darkness, seems to have been emptied of its seats. Instead, we discover several small round tables. A reading lamp and a rotary telephone are placed on each.
A cable connects the telephone to a small dispatcher console. Thanks to the silent instructions from the concierge, we understand that the first four holes give access to French-speaking lines and the other four to English-speaking lines.
Rightly or wrongly, the voices isolated by the receiver give the impression that all these night owls are alone. (Jocelyn Riendeau/Le Soleil)
Three extracts from the Australian version, essential to the dramaturgy of the work, have been translated and integrated into the French-speaking version.
Once seated at a table, each participant is free to navigate between the lines to discover the nocturnal fauna of Quebec and Australia.
Although some messages appear to have been left by professionals and others leave a more authentic impression, it is assured that none was scripted and is a documentary work.
We can hear messages of all kinds! Funny, touching, intriguing and even insignificant.
There’s the biologist who shares his joy at having four children despite the inevitable environmental chaos on the horizon, and there’s the snoring woman who waits for her light-sleeping lover to fall asleep before going to bed. join.
There are messages from people who are returning from work and others who are starting their day. Of people kept awake by pain or anxiety and others who have fun getting through the night.
Even if the messages are anonymous and left voluntarily, Night line comes to tickle the voyeuristic side of the public who accesses a part of the intimacy of a stranger. Or a loved one? The possibility makes this even more exciting.
Immersive staging
Eventually, a noise that does not come from the phone is heard. A slightly distressing music rises in the room and seems to disrupt the lines and the lamps. The participants look up at the concierge, but she shrugs her shoulders. Everything is back to normal…for now.
The immersive staging of this experience has many surprises in store for participants!
We play with lights and sound to create a mysterious atmosphere and guide the eyes. The music, where the stormy notes of a cello sometimes break through, is sublime. Sometimes, it’s rain or a bird chirping that we hear in the room. These sounds are often linked to the messages that are playing.
During these moments, participants seem to be brought back to the same sound clips.
When thunder resounds, segments of different messages taken from the French-speaking and English-speaking lines intersect. The lamps light up randomly at the participants’ tables.
And when we see these faces, alone in the dark, combined with our ears, we can almost imagine the person who left the message we are listening to. Alone among sleepers and other insomniacs whose existence she can simply accept.
Night line is an immersive, poetic, mysterious experience, which makes us feel solitude while reminding us that we belong to a community. This work makes us feel “alone together”, to use the words of In a sputnik by Daniel Bélanger.
Epilogue
When leaving the room, the concierge gives each participant a card with the night line number. This will continue to collect messages from insomniacs, even after the performances have ended. Will these messages be used for another work? Who knows.
Night line is presented at Périscope until June 8.
