A man runs and his steps create his way. He fled his home. His family. His past. He doesn't know where he's going. Is he panicked? Lost? Delusional? Dumb, maybe? ...
He often feels like a penguin. A penguin, yes. Encumbered by his tall, lean body, his long, slender limbs. Foreign body. Encumbered with his presence in the world. What to do with yourself when you feel out of place? When we are too much. Still too much. Too big, too small, too smart, too cheeky, too effeminate, too macho, too reckless, too bossy, too shy, too not enough ...
This man is hiding, he is hiding in his memories, in his dreams, in his nightmares. Unless he is the prisoner?
On the way, he meets people. Are they real or does he encounter his ghosts, his doubles, the play of his illusions?
One day - why that day? - on the way, he looks, he listens. He understands, he accepts. He has the right. To be there, quite simply. Without mask. At the center of the world, at the center of the stage.
He can hit the road again. Free of any tie.
A dark scene. A black box, like a cranial box. We are in this man's head, and on his way. As close as possible to his perceptions, his illusions and his wonders. In the flow of his thoughts and feelings. In phase with its discoveries, its revelations. In his mental theater.
Binding dreamlike, fantasized and real scene-paintings at the same time: an aesthetic of rupture or slippage. An aesthetic of chiaroscuro, made up of flashes, appearances and disappearances along the way. An aesthetic of vibration, echo, ricochet. An aesthetic of the shift, the zany, the fragmentary, the falsely chaotic and perfectly calibrated subversive patchwork. A delirium of late childhood, funny and absurd. Between latino baroque and arte povera. Without complex and out of order.
What makes the strength and beauty of "On the way" is its lack of judgment, its unique way of never slipping into an unhealthy complacency, or into a blissful sanctification of those we do not see most often. that under one label: the freaks. The monsters, not like the others. The bad-looking, the deformed, the counterfeit. The quirky, the marginalized. The Penguins.
In this show, no compassion, no condescension either. But bodies, magnificent, elusive, unclassifiable, multiple and unique presences. Like life. Ours.
Philippe de Pierpont
Concept and direction Gustavo Giacosa
With Kostia Botkine, Antoine Boulangé, Fausto Ferraiuolo, Gustavo Giacosa, Akira Inumaru, Philippe Marien and Francesca Zaccaria
Original music performed on stage Fausto Ferraiuolo
Artistic advisor Philippe de Pierpont
Light designer Bertrand Blayo
Assistant stage director Gaëlle Marc
Production Compagnie SIC.12 / The "S" Grand Atelier
Coproduction Le Liberté, national stage of Toulon / Théâtre du Bois de l'Aune, Aix-en-Provence / Durance theater, Château-Arnoux-Saint-Auban
With the help of La Maison de la Culture Famenne-Ardenne, Marche-en-Famenne
With the support, in France, of the Ministry of Culture / Drac Provence-Alpes-Côte d'Azur, the Provence-Alpes-Côte d'Azur regional council, the Bouches-du-Rhône departmental council and the City of Aix-en Provence and, in Belgium, the Wallonia-Brussels Federation and the Province of Luxembourg