RONDE DES COEURS: KARINE ROUGIER | JACQUES PRÉVERT
Past exhibition
Overview
Ils entrent en nombre, dés à lancer pour chemins dans le vide, pieds en rafale sur le sol, corps nus jetés dans la lumière d’on ne sait où, précipitation sans parole sous des ciels assourdis.
Ils dansent en ronde, au chant des mouvements et des souffles amplifiés — inspiration, extension, expiration, compression — ils s’approchent, ils s’enlacent, s’enveloppent, se touchent, s’attachent, main dans la main — et si les doigts glissent dans une paume moite d’avoir serré trop fort, ils attrapent le poignet le coude ou l’épaule, ils trouvent une prise peu importe laquelle, pour ne rien laisser filer de l’autre, de son rythme, de son élan, pour tenir bon le corps qui danse et entraîne, mais pourrait bien s’enfuir.
Ils forment un monde, joue contre sein, petit corps sur plus grand, pinceau contre peau, œil renversé, masques tombés, remis, changés, changeants,
Il se pourrait qu’il n’y ait bientôt plus de contours, plus de corps à soi devant le corps de l’autre.
Il se pourrait que la scène s’efface comme elle est née — seul souvenir : la poussière de leurs gestes, un brouillard coloré au revers des paupière —
il sera plus facile de dire qu’on a rêvé..
Nina Léger, 2019
They enter in numbers, dice to be thrown for paths into the void, feet in a swarm on the ground, naked bodies thrown into the light from who knows where, a wordless rush under muffled skies.
They dance in a circle, to the song of amplified movements and breaths - inhalation, extension, exhalation, compression - they approach, they embrace, they wrap around, they touch, they tie, hand in hand - and if the fingers slip in a palm sweaty from having squeezed too hard, they grab the wrist, the elbow or the shoulder, they find a hold no matter what, so as not to let anything slip from the other, their rhythm, their momentum, to hold on to the body that dances and carries them along, but could well run away.
They form a world, cheek against breast, small body against larger, brush against skin, eye reversed, masks dropped, put back on, changed, changing,
Soon there may be no more contours, no body of one's own in front of the body of the other.
It could be that the scene will fade as it was born - the only memory: the dust of their gestures, a coloured mist on the back of their eyelids —
They dance in a circle, to the song of amplified movements and breaths - inhalation, extension, exhalation, compression - they approach, they embrace, they wrap around, they touch, they tie, hand in hand - and if the fingers slip in a palm sweaty from having squeezed too hard, they grab the wrist, the elbow or the shoulder, they find a hold no matter what, so as not to let anything slip from the other, their rhythm, their momentum, to hold on to the body that dances and carries them along, but could well run away.
They form a world, cheek against breast, small body against larger, brush against skin, eye reversed, masks dropped, put back on, changed, changing,
Soon there may be no more contours, no body of one's own in front of the body of the other.
It could be that the scene will fade as it was born - the only memory: the dust of their gestures, a coloured mist on the back of their eyelids —
it will be easier to say that we were dreaming...
Nina Léger, 2019
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