Miet Warlop
One Song Histoire(s) du Théâtre IV
Concept, director and set design, Miet Warlop
With Simon Beeckaert, Elisabeth Klinck, Willem Lenaerts/Gilles Vandecaveye-Pinoy, Milan Schudel, Melvin Slabbinck, Joppe Tanghe, Karin Tanghe, Wietse Tanghe, Stanislas Bruynseels, Rint Dens †, Judith Engelen, Marius Lefever, Luka Mariën, Flora Van Canneyt, Max Colonne
Music, Maarten Van Cauwenberghe with the whole band
Text, Miet Warlop advised by Jeroen Olyslaegers
Costume design, Carol Piron & Filles à Papa
Dramaturgy, Giacomo Bisordi
Produced by NTGent; Miet Warlop / Irene Wool vzw
Coproduced by Festival d'Avignon; deSingel (Antwerp); TANDEM Scène nationale (Douai-Arras); Théâtre Dijon Bourgogne Centre Dramatique National; HAU Hebbel am Ufer Berlin; La Comédie de Valence - Centre Dramatique National Drôme – Ardèche; Teatre Lliure (Barcelone)
The Théâtre du Rond-Point and the Festival d’Automne à Paris present this performance in co-production.
In partnership with France Inter
A song, the same one, is repeated over and over again in a trance which makes us laugh and transfixes us. Between athletic performance, ritual and punk concert, the Flemish visual artist and choreographer Miet Warlop orchestrates an attempted exhaustion of sadness.
One Song has two birth certificates. There is the proposition that Milo Rau made to Miet Warlop to explore her relationship to theatre in a forth part of the Histoire(s) du Théâtre series, set in motion by the director in 2018. And there is the piece Sportband/Afgetrainde Klanke, conjured up in 2005 as a requiem for her deceased brother, a conjuration of the sadness that Miet Warlop has chosen to reinvent here in light of the time which has gone by and to make a piece of work out of it. One Song takes the form of a loop which unwinds in an infinite number of variations, a concert which has been designed as an obstacle race. Each to their own: the singer has to run on a conveyor belt in order to maintain the right distance with the microphone, the violinist plays whilst balancing on a beam, and the pianist is condemned to bouncing up and down… all of whom are under the control of the metronome, and the encouragements of a cheerleader and a commentator. Each of them strives to make this song exist, resulting in an electric shock-like performance, the rousing nature of which short-circuits grieving and provides sustenance for the solidarity of bodies and energies. The piece becomes the affirmation of a community via the pushing of oneself to our limits.
In the same place
Talents Adami Theater, Mohamed El Khatib Stand-up
What will it be this time: thunderous applause or icy silence? In Mohamed El Khatib's opinion, the inherently risky nature of stand-up comedy elevates it to a theatrical art in its own right. A framework for expression of all kinds, it clears the path for transgressive laughter, in a cathartic space which brings us all together.
Vaiva Grainytė, Lina Lapelytė, Rugilė Barzdžiukaitė Have a Good Day!
Have a good day! arises from the collaboration of Vaiva Grainytė, Lina Lapelytė, and Rugilė Barzdžiukaitė. The three artists turn their focus toward the inner lives of cashiers in a shopping centre. “Good afternoon!”, “Thank you!”, “Have a good day!” : this opera examines what lies behind mechanical statements and their associated perfunctory gestures.
Mohamed Bourouissa, Zazon Castro Quartier de femmes
At the crossroads between theatre and stand-up, the first show by the visual artist Mohamed Bourouissa brings to the stage the different phases in the life of a woman in prison and its transformations. In the absence of pathos, the piece uses humour to circumvent the arduous nature of its subject matter.
Joël Pommerat Marius
Inspired by the work of Marcel Pagnol, this show explores the theme of escape. Some of the actors had their first experience of theatre at the Maison centrale d'Arles prison. Marius provides audiences with a unique opportunity to discover a little-known but crucial dimension of Joël Pommerat's art.
Lina Majdalanie, Rabih Mroué 33 tours et quelques secondes
Who is Diyaa Yamout, the Lebanese human rights activist, artist and blogger whose suicide shook the nation? We will never really know and this is not what matters. Indeed, what is far more fascinating here is the profusion of assorted reactions on Facebook, the television, and in the form of SMS and answering machine messages