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    Extrait de l'article de Julie Rossello:

    "La déambulation emprunte aux parcs d’attractions, le jeu, parfois minimaliste, aux séries télé, l’enfant-lune surgissant au cinéma fantastique, la lumière, la musique aux films d’épouvante. La tension est désamorcée par la langue de Mariette Navarro à la fois drôle lorsqu’elle se réfère à notre proche quotidien (facebook) et poignante par ses monologues libératoires, celui du jardinier – « est-ce que je suis un chien ? » – et celui de Charles –« Qu’est-ce que ça doit faire un homme ? ». Nous sommes alors violemment emportés dans l’arène purgatoire de la tragédie archaïque, celle des Anciens ; elle aussi divisée en épisodes. Le fatum est en marche depuis le début, dès l’amorce, et chacun des personnages le sait, – comme chacun regardera de ses yeux, sans mots dire, la victime tragique se brûler l’estomac à l’eau de javel, avant de s’effondrer. 3000 ans écoulés, ce ne sont plus les dieux mais les hommes qui se punissent eux-mêmes ; par leurs mutismes, leurs dénis à voir la souffrance de l’autre, leurs lâchetés quotidiennes. Le stilnox, le zolpidem et autres prescriptions de Charles, médecin de profession, sont impuissants face à la détresse de cette desperate housewife, héroïne de l’ennui. Le spectacle de Caroline Guiela Nguyen et son équipe met subtilement et superbement en scène ce paradoxe que les plus grands aveuglements se jouent précisément au centre des rapports de la cellule familiale puisque ce sont ces mêmes rapports qui constituent chacun. Le secret d’Emma est à la fois le feu qui consume sa famille et elle, et le lien qui leur permet de vivre."

    Vous pouvez trouver l'intégralité sur le site de Mouvement.net, ici.

     

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  • Un article sur Elle brûle

     

    A ceci près que ce n'est pas "une pièce écrite par Mariette Navarro" mais une pièce écrite collectivement, et qui demeure pour une large part improvisée chaque soir par les acteurs,  dans laquelle j'ai écrit quelques passages de texte! La nuance est importante pour comprendre comment nous travaillons, mais visiblement n'empêche pas de percevoir ce que nous racontons alors tant mieux...

     

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  •  

    Et un troisième article sur How to be a Modern Marvel®? après l'annonce de la nomination de l'équipe pour les Fringe Awards 2013.

     

    Plastic pots & empty promises

     

    [Avec une vraie photo des comédiennes cette fois!]

     

    "The audience is left in no doubt that the promises of freedom and opportunity are as empty as the plastic pots on display"

     

     
    “Welcome," breathes a tall lady wearing a bright yellow 1950s dress and a cream head band, ushering me into a room on the second floor of the Institute. Positioned by the fireplace are two equally glossy young women, with strong French accents, who make me feel instantly five times shabbier than I did in the foyer.

    My inferiority complex lessens as I realise that their demure, permanently smiling demeanours are all part of the act. We have unwittingly wandered into a sales pitch, masquerading as a play. This isn’t your average touting as you walk by the perfume counter at the department store however, this is the hard sell laid bare. Luckily the audience is not the direct target; the ‘manageress’ and the ‘franchisee’ are selling their lifestyle to the ‘trainee’.

    Mariette Navarro’s Prodiges©, translated by Katherine Mendelsohn to How To Be A Modern Marvel© explores the occupation of female-run franchises in post World War II France. Was it exploitation or empowerment? As a role that wouldn't interfere with the woman's core business (such as being present at mealtimes or absent when her husband returns home from work); franchise selling was then a popular employment for married, largely uneducated women living in the countryside.

    “Shouldn't we mention the products we're selling?” asks the trainee innocently, mirroring my thoughts, but the manageress flashes a glare in response. What a crude suggestion. She’d prefer instead to wax lyrical on the journey that each of her saleswomen has undertaken to reach full ‘franchisee’ status. These narratives, incidentally, are the real-life personal accounts of each cast member’s grandmother.

    With the brand story consolidated, it's finally time to see the goods. The manageress presents a jewellery box, and after taunting us with it for a few minutes, she withdraws... a Tupperware pot. The age of plastic is upon us, and as the pastel containers are heaped in front of us, the age is looking increasingly like a Disneyland castle.  There’s a touch of black comedy as the actions are verbalised by a need “to rebuild” on a national level.

    By the play’s conclusion, the audience is left in no doubt that the promises of freedom and opportunity are as empty as the plastic pots on display. But deciphering whether there is a clear agenda underpinning the performance is harder; the Stepford wives lines are difficult to swallow, but also to rail against, given that franchise selling is still an employment of choice for many cash strapped women around the country today.

    Article de Sally Brammal dans The Big Issue ici.

     
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  •  

    Et un autre article ici, toujours sur la création en anglais de la traduction de Prodiges®, How to be a Modern Marvel®?, publié dans le Scotsman et relayé sur le site du festival d'Edimbourg.

     

    Theatre review: How to be a Modern Marvel®?

    [Photo non contractuelle piquée ici]

     

    Edinburgh Fringe Scotsman review: How to be a Modern Marvel® at Institut français d’Ecosse (Venue 134), reviewed by Claire Smith

     

    Three elegantly dressed 1960s-style women with brightly coloured synthetic outfits and weird bobbed hair welcome us into a room.

    We are invited to sit, relax, prepare, breathe gently and enjoy a presentation which will change our lives. This is in the style of an etiquette lesson or marketing event, but it it is not entirely clear what is being sold.

    This style of absurdist theatre is rarely seen on the Fringe, so it takes a while for the audience to recognise that confusion is the name of the game. The three women, while ultra-charming, are very sure of themselves, but the nature of the product, service or belief system on offer is kept deliberately vague.

    It can be hard to make out some of the words, which are delivered in very strongly French-accented English. But the performers display great control and their presentation is genuinely disconcerting.

    Eventually the piece reveals itself as a radical satire on the emptiness of materialism.

    After messing pleasantly with our heads for an hour these charming ladies hand round glasses of wine and politely offer to discuss their work.

    MORE INFO: How to be a Modern Marvel® at Institut français d’Ecosse(Venue 134),until 26 August

    Originally published in The Scotsman

     

     

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  •  

    Un article sur The stage.co.uk

    [Photo non contractuelle piquée ici]

     

    Les articles de presse commencent à arriver concernant la création en anglais de How to be a Modern Marvel®? (traduction de Prodiges® par Katherine Mendelsohn), par Matthieu Roy et les comédiennes Caroline Maydat, Aurore Déon et Johanna Silberstein.Le lien vers l'article original ici.

    Institut francais d'Ecosse

    Theatre Reviewed by Thom Dibdin
     
     
     

    Designed to be performed wherever you could hold a Tupperware Party, Mariette Nararro's sparkling script, translated from the French by Katherine Mendelsohn, draws direct lines between the lives of professional women in their thirties now, and the lives their grandmothers' generation in the 50s and 60s.

     

    Seated around tables, the audience's presence is clearly at the invitation of the immaculately clad and coiffured actresses. With a hypnotic, singsong delivery, that forces the stress onto the latter syllables of the words, this has the feel of a cultish initiation. The immersion is into a secret society, a new world where the promised possibilities seem too good to be true.

     

    There is real care about every aspect of the production. Caroline Maydat as the Manageress calm is in control, self assured, focussed, at ease, Aurore Deon is purposeful as the Franchisee, and Johanna Silberstein is hesitant and unsure of herself as the Trainee.

     

    Under Matthieu Roy's concise direction every move, every moment of eye-contact with the audience counts towards keeping the immersion believable. The stories of women's lives, based on the lives of the mothers and grandmothers of the actresses, are woven into the narrative of the sales pitch with ease. Perfect.

    Published online
    August 16, 2013
    Review by
    Thom Dibdin
    Produced by
    Cie du Veilleur
    Writer
    Mariette Nararro
    Director
    Matthieu Roy
    Translator
    Katherine Mendelsohn
    Running until
    August 26, 2013
    Running time
    55 minutes
    View more production details

    CAST

    Manageress
    Caroline Maydat
    Franchisee
    Aurore Deon
    Trainee
    Johanna Silberstein

    CREW

    Writer
    Mariette Nararro
    Director
    Matthieu Roy
    Translator
    Katherine Mendelsohn
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