One of the most encouraging things about the Festival d'Avignon is the lack of discipline.
It is the golden word of the acrobats who hurtle down the streets in rather modest parades this year.
It is also practiced at another level: the intersection of the arts, which, perhaps exhausted from tending towards their particular virtuosity, play the pileup.
It sparks, shoves, surprises, opens up new fields.
The shapes are endless.
Take two stage animals for example.
Denis Lavant, actor, and Nikolaus Holz, musician clown.
They meet in a bar that the festival moves around Avignon every day.
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Their show,
Mister Tambourine man
, is itinerant.
Nikolaus bricks up the bar, furnishes it, wonders about perfection.
Arrives Lavant.
"Here is some human,"
sounds the trumpet to the tune of the
Boudin
of the Foreign Legion.
Lavant wears the animal skin of Hamelin's Pied Piper and announces the silent rush of children behind the mountain.
Have we really left childhood?
Nikolaus
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