Published on November 2, 2024 at 09:05. / Modified on November 2, 2024 at 09:10.
He weaves our fictions “sitting on the perfect edge of a star”, as his dear Richard Brautigan says, this American writer who made a sonnet from a trifle. Fabrice Melquiot writes plays about our childhood obsessions, the death that we don’t know how to put into words when we are 6 years old, the love that weaves its spider’s web between two enemy levels, the crush of three teenagers who dream of the same she-devil with indigo skin. The former director of the Am Stram Gram Theater in Geneva thus deploys a magnetic archipelago which has earned it performances in Montreal as in Avignon, in Paris as in New York. A bulimia of meridians. Above all, a talent for dowsing.
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