Des moires d'outrestombes

De Mathurin sauveur de fols, à Saint Jacques le bien nommé, que Théodomir exhuma…
Que de traces et de cheminements …
Un koan Zen énonce que le bois ignore tout de la cendre, ainsi que la cendre du bois …
Et, à travers les ruines de cette ancienne abbatiale, là, devant le plancher du studio à Larchant, j'ai devant les yeux la résolution entière de ce koan…

Devant ce plancher  en partie recouvert de cendre qui lui confère comme une atmosphère de circus , il me semble humant cette étrange épaisseur  y voir galoper ds chevaux …
De cavale, certes, en parait une, très très étrange, une sorte d'efflorescence terrestre avec une chevelure de plantes sauvages & de mousses ou de lichens ? …impossible à dire ni à cerner de cette bizarre silhouette dont le buste semble gainé d'un caraco noir,  évoquant l'Espagne & ses bustiers altiers …

Céline s'avance, Céline danse mais à peine, ses pieds humides laissent au sol les empreintes d'antiques incendies que l'orage avale …
Puis soudain elle s'écroule, elle s'écroule sans fin et toute sa danse n'est que cette chute infinitement renouvelée, une mer de chutes entre le bois & la cendre …

Estre outre, c'est à dire mort, mais outrepasser … S'en aller plus avant, plus loin, plus vif, plus noir …
Il n'est de chute qu'on ne relève, tombe et retombe encor …
Dans cette humidification de la cendre au sol, là où se voit gésir Céline-dryope, sorte d'abîme enchâssé dans la vie de la mort, une surterraine alchimie nous saisit et nous fige …
Les puissances de la terre et de l'arbre s'enflent & tendent ce corps possédé, démembré, haletant, mu par des forces invisibles et chthoniennes …
Puis des sons s'en échappent, des mots ou ds bribes de mots qui courent, qui nous échinent …
Des phrases entières ciselées comme à la hache de ce corps-parole nous frappent comme des traits ...

Parfois il s'échappe et court, parfois il s'élève puis retombe …
Cela semble venir d'un autre espace, d'autre temps, d'univers parallèles mais enliés …

Lorsqu'il freine, se fige un instant et semble suspendu en ces corridors d'entre-mondes, on perçoit alors distinctement comme des frottis d'élytres, des frémissements cristallins de nébuleuses gelées, quelques diamants stellaires qui se rétractent proches du Zéro absolu … Des vrilles d'éléments rares haubanant des traînes d'astéroïdes de métaux extra terrestres …
Une musique subtile invisible à l'oreille nue, mais qui sous tend et comble la force de la danse dans ses interstices les plus secrets.
Alors cela finit par imprégner le corps même de la Dryope qui s'en nourrit, y plonge quelque aventureuse racine et y puise une sorte de sidérale énergie …

Et quand la vie en sourd, finit par en jaillir, c'est une sorte d'expulsion, d'explosion vitale qui se rétracte comme aspirée par son propre déploiement … Cela s'étire & s'allonge, envahit tout l'espace et envahit le temps … On pressent l'attaque de la nuit … L'ombre s'allonge tandis que la couleur se ternit …

De ce corps maintenant nu on sent émaner puissance, la vitalité, Dryope-Δρυοπη échapperait enfin aux Hamadryades ? …
Mais il s'agit là de bien autre chose, ce corps de danse se doit d'échapper à lui-même, d'échapper à la représentation, au représentable …
Nous ne pouvons que le suivre dans une lente remontée, un longue ascension du vivant vers la lumière …
Nous nous élevons avec lui et disparaissons dans ses mots, dans les textes et dans les cris …
une mémoire millénaire crépite alors en nous et vient témoigner de la futilité du monde.
Le temps s'est arrêté et nous demeurons figés, ficelés dans nos paquets de viande … exsangues …

Voilà … Depuis longtemps, Céline a disparu, portée sans doute par quelque aquilon vers la froide hyperborée ou quelque contrée mythique au delà de nos sens …
Nous refluons, nous nous parlons à nous mêmes en tâchant d'éviter de nous redire, de nous méprendre. Ensemble saisis …

Le bois ignore tout de la cendre, certes,  mais c'est bien entre les deux que crépite insaisissable la flamme de vie …

Claude Parle

-

" je ne danse pas j'offre mes os "

Performance solo: Céline Angèle

Mise en scène: Jean Daniel Fricker

Durée: 1h
Le dimanche 30 septembre à 16h, à l'entre lieu , Larchant (77)

" au bord du silence " Installation, Performance solo - Jean Daniel Fricker

 

au bord du silence


(at the edge of silence)

Installation, Performance solo: Jean Daniel Fricker

Moments of the process ] chambre intérieure [ 

With the support of: Céline Angèle

Duration: Undetermined

" I do not know. Céline suggests me some words,
then I try, with the requirement that I’ve been given today,
to experience physically these words.
Could be Duras, Rilke, Hölderlin, Bram Van Velde.
The meaning remains incomprehensible and open,
but in each moment, without understanding, I try to be permeable to those words.
I think that the words are born from a physical relation with the world.
While everything seems about to end, I make an effort to be at the beginning,
to be dead, to be alive. I try to let act the words, to let them born,
in the particles that compose this body,
in the space
in you. "
Jean Daniel Fricker


Première at the XVth Butô Festival in june 2014
at Espace Culturel Bertin Poirée, Paris, France






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" TabulA RasA " Installation, Performance solo - Jean Daniel Fricker

 TabulA RasA 

  

 Installation, Performance solo

This title and the installation have been selected for the "première" in February 2011,
 

we have kept them in tribute to the victims of 2011 March 11th, past, present and future.



 

 

Photo: Georges Karam - 2012 March 11th - La pièce à musique, in Henri Sauvage building, Paris

 
Installation of various white clothes covering the stage

Moments of the process ] chambre intérieure [

Installation, Performance solo: Jean Daniel Fricker


With the support of: Céline Angèle



Duration: Undetermined





Shortly before going on stage with "Tabula Rasa" in June 2011, a friend, Hiroko told me a story
 that deeply moved me, not only because we were in Japan during the earthquake.


Her friend had lost her father. He had been missing for several weeks following the tsunami.


They were looking around with hope. Some weeks later,
 the sea has brought his body on the beach, right outside his house.
 This is what I am longing for, a body-flesh, Nikutai, a body left to itself, going by itself, at home.

Jean Daniel Fricker
 


 

Jean Daniel Fricker undertakes 

an exploration-experience, to inner and limitless spaces.

 This crystalline and cellular dance is a non-form state,

“another” intimacy; intimate and universal.



A dance that serves the moment, innumerable.

 A receptacle body that mediates what passes through.

 From this penetration of vibrations radiates 
an atmosphere,
 the offer of a bare existence.
 A life that searches itself, both wild and divine.
The matter itself, who explores itself: 

a substance, that at each moment new,
 listens itself,
 offers itself to the becoming.

Céline Angèle




Performed at the XII th Butoh Festival, Centre Culturel Bertin Poirée Paris, 2011, 
La Pièce à musique (Paris), Contagiarte (Porto), and Studio Ki (Graz, Austria) in 2012


Teaser: http://vimeo.com/jeandanielfricker/tabula-rasa



 ] chambre intérieure [

I experiment a radical body process ] chambre intérieure [ 
, inner chamber,
a kind of non-dance in which the body would say yes to any moment, any space.
I intend a dance of the moment, not a linear construction
but the verticality of momentum based on intuition and receptivity.

I try to make myself available to each moment every single one, stubbornly.

I give more attention to the vibration of the atmosphere than to the visual rendering,
form, or movement. I am questioning about the possibility of not looking myself
having the experience as it is exposed to the gaze of others.
I propose for instance to give as much attention to the immobility
and the silence, than to the movement itself.

Jean Daniel Fricker 



 

Photo Georges Karam - 2012 March 11th - La pièce à musique, Paris

 




Critics:
 
 
"It was definitively beautiful. Your action is intense, out of time, out of space and totally in at the same time…"
Emanuela DeCecco, Art critic


 
" I cried "  
Hiroko Komiya, musician

 


" TabulA RasA…a space-time hanging where Jean Daniel Fricker seems to invite us 
to dive into our own inner chamber. Astonishment, discomfort, surprise, amazement. 
As if the room was transformed into a giant scanner able to record our increased sensations.
In fact audience get to become aware of the myriad of vibrations that drive them. From the stage
to the audience, this artist knows for sure to be available, at each moment, at the place and 
at the audience which he brings with gentleness, to live, by his side and in his own inner space,
this radical exploration."



Rosaline Deslauriers, actress-musician and postdoctorante (EHESS)



"

 " Butoh of the future "


 Sarah Warde, actress



" 

I try to stay on my feelings. I saw "TabulA RasA"; it was first nonsense, this time becoming elastic
and I could not remain indifferent; there was a common experience which I could not take the sense.
I was there like in front of a painting, it was made to be watched. A painting has to be watched:
There is first the gesture of the painter and the emergence of landscapes; subjects; seasons; events. 
Effect of movement in a painting or in an inner dance is perceived by each one of us.
Time is a way to access to sense; to let us be amazed by incomprehension or by intangibility; therefore sensations, 
to let us being touched in the unconsciousness. Being caressed by the wind. The wind is felt but not seen: sensation. 
We see the wind because we see the leaves of the tree moving: sensation.
Contemplation becomes inexhaustible. It emerges the poetry of intimacy; from the contrast of shadows and lights. 
I love. Finally! I could say more."



Clementine Balair, painter

 

" It was as if the body of Jean Daniel was not made of flesh and blood, but of a matter almost cosmic, in the instant before it crumbles. A fragile and at the same time eternal matter : I saw the space around him, but at the same time, it was as if he was out of space, of this space. In an absolute space.
This performance could have lasted 10 minutes, as 5 hours or two days, it depended on the touch of his skin with the breath of the universe. (…) Sensations were made of fragility but also universality."
Daniela Gamba, actress, dancer, editor

Ueno Park,Tokyo, March 11th 2011, " Earth Dance ", Ph: Mugi. " TabulA RasA " Ph: Hiroko Komiya , Kazuya Nagaya. Paris Butoh Festival 2011

 


" A body carried from present to present,
Recolled by an inner voice
You return to yourself ...
from another world
In every movement a cry to an invisible cellular travel,
lapels of meat
Every time a fatality, a set free existence, a sure death
Then a flood tide, a sudden backwash movement
In the carpet rippled by human presences
emaciated bodies are evoked
and a lapped body, as if was there by chance, by real destiny
A thousand lives make you a shield
Faceless
a wave walks on human legs

Saved existence, eternally in danger
in each movement a rough caress, which leads to weep
While the stillness carries you
you speak the dense language of the fetus

One death at a time
in a plain of invisibile bodies
each movement a backwash

A movement coming from far away goes back to itself and harbours the dance of Jean Daniel Fricker:
an hand trembles, the flesh moves forward: it tells underground memories

A body traces the story of its existence, a mysterious journey to the source of movement,
the show of the invisibile takes shape, an existence offered on a tray of flesh

Made of beauty that ravishes and upsets the ordinary, bread offered on a table laid of faceless souls.

Living flesh trembling with truth, an offer to the invisibile and a love token: tabula rasa

More than a dance, a foreboding,
more than a movement, a dialogue among cells.
Flesh that discovers to be alive, to be fragile, to be vulnerable,
but determined to be born
An ancient and immortal resonance
An inner landscape which inhabits the viewer in every single moment
and at the end
in the emptiness of the stage
make him cry for a new exile

All time that running through you - belongs to you "
Sara Pulici, dancer, writer

Photo Christophe Staber, Studio Ki, Graz 2012

     


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