“Don’t tell me that you love me”: float at the surface of things

«Ne me dis pas que tu m’aimes»: flotter à la surface des choses

Photo: Josée Lecompte
There are in “Don’t tell me that you love me” something of the order of the video.

Take as the backdrop to a universe of pop tart put in tension with the universe disenchanted by the rock group Turnip Confit. Bring a touch of glamour which slides gradually into decadence. Do dive in head first a gang of girls who are not afraid of anything, especially not of the grotesque and the move from dancing to singing skillfully and with a snap of the fingers. Seen from afar, the piece of music at the young choreographer Geneviève Jean-Bindley would be enough to seduce, if it does not relied not so much on form at the expense of the bottom, and got to touch the theme of the (on)consumption no switching in the pure entertainment and hard.

There is in Don’t tell me that you love me something of the order of the video. The staging is polished, well-thought-out. Attendance anchored, while frontality of the eyes to the spectators. The voices are fair and strong point of the piece, the choreography is rigorous and gives rise to beautiful unite in recalling with originality synchronized swimming.

The play opens with a solo that poses from the beginning an atmosphere of light and deliberately kitsch. On the screen in the back of the stage, parading images of a reef packed with exotic fish, while a dancer in a bathing suit pink soars in flexible movements and virtuosic close to the modern jazz. Enter the scene the other four performers, colorful costumes and glamour. One, holding a stuffed dog in her arms, comes crashing in front of a microphone at the front of the stage. The scene switches to the karaoke, the lyrics of the songs signed Turnip Confit scrolling on the screen in the background, interpreted in turn by the dancers in the interludes.

The contrast between an artificial world sequin slip into the absurd and the words that are relevant to everyday life disenchanted is a good idea in itself. The catch is that the provocation and the histrionics that affect the staging never go far enough to twist some of the pictures will be called, and the girls remaining on the surface of things. In spite of the performers totally invested in their roles, we tired in the face of the spectacle of the girls becoming bitches, barking, sniffing each other. And that even if a tender quirk emerges from some of the scenes (the image of a dry-hair to become object of pleasure, those also of a strange duel of submission and a tasting of a canine of chips).

To summarize, writing which on the level of form remains promising, but which, from the point of view of the background remains very young.

Don’t tell me that you love me

Creation of Genevieve, John Bindley, with Marie-Ève Dion, Elizabeth-Anne Dorléans, Myriam Foisy, Hyacinth Light-Leduc and Marie-Philippe Santerre on the music of a Turnip Confit. Presented by Tangent until 17 February at the Building Wilder – Espace Danse.