Clearly out of place, politically incorrect in relation to the usual choreographic codes which perform beauty of bodies and movements when here, everything almost borders on ugliness and the absurd…Oona Doherty totally baffled the spectators of the Pavillon Noir on Friday evening who came to see the creation world of this artist of the contemporary scene, with affirmed talent, which earned her, at just 35 years old, to be crowned with a Silver Lion at the Venice Biennale
Artist associated with the Preljocaj Ballet for the season, the Northern Irishwoman took the pretext of her family history to tell the story of great-great-grandfather Specky Clark played by the brilliant Faith Pendergas, who arrived in Belfast as an orphan to find a host family, work, and “boil the pot”. It will be in a slaughterhouse, where the Doherty family worked. As they say in Ireland, “God bless him”, poor Specky.
Killing the pig (the charming Gérard Headley), the boy will have to learn even if this friendly animal speaks with poetry about its green meadows, as underlined by the voices of the actors and the subtitle which translates the very beautiful literary prose of a consummate surrealism signed by the Irish author Enda Walsh. He signs the dramaturgy of the play whose burlesque scenography comes from Sabine Dargent.
Because in this show there is certainly more space for theater and sketches than room for dance, apart from an interlude where we find all the rage and anger which are the usual expression of the Irish choreographer. This surprised the audience, divided, at times, between laughter and discomfort.
The musical environment chosen by Maxime Fraisse punctuates with great originality, accuracy and power this strange imaginary, phantasmagorical journey, marked by images of witches, between pint drinking, dark moors and slaughterhouse hooks.
Everything ultimately leads to a Halloween evening which pushes the living Specky into a Gaelic party, into this intermediate space where Celtic legend says that we can meet for a short time those we have lost, in this case: the mother.
Doherty then offers us a ballet where we will apologize in advance for seeing some reminiscences of “Thriller” with the living dead rhythmically (obviously) and deformed in a macabre voodoo dance which will transform into a sensitive round , a swirling waltz with accents of nostalgic Irish violins.
In short, an apotheosis which allows us to conclude that ultimately, this funny Irish tale with hints of bacon (pictorial reference for Doherty, Buddhist for the destiny of our pig) is quite crazy, sad despite some laughter from the public, who will not have been sensitive neither to the sadness of the animal (omnipresent, therefore) which remembers its loved ones, nor to the child released on a port who will have to learn to grow up alone and to throw a fist despite his squinty glasses.
Saturday at 7 p.m. at the Pavillon Noir, 10 to 25 euros. Such. 04 42 93 48 14 – Dancers Diarmuid Amstrong, Maëva Berthelot, Malick Cissé, Gerard Headley, Clay Koonar, Gennaro Lauro, Michael McEvoy, Erin O'Reilly, Faith Pendergas.
