Le Parisien Magazine28 November 2014
What a circus !
Cirque Plume celebrates its 30th anniversary with the ethereal and bohemian Tempus Fugit?, a show that is far from just a charade.
Tempus Fugit. How time flies... Already thirty years? For their anniversary Cirque Plume has chosen to take an emotional look in the rear-view mirror. It’s a celebration… but what a celebration… put together by their founding members along with a number of new recruits. This circus is not just about the spectacular, it is gloriously bohemian too. Nothing about them is a charade; they moved forward with discreet steps and made their own special place in what we call "the New Circus" of the 1980s. Ever since their beginnings and under the auspices of their co-founder Bernar Kudlek, Cirque Plume has been weaving together a kind of art where virtuosity competes with technique. Through their shows - ten over the last three decades - sparkling instants follow little spots of poetry and fine circus acts chase after musical swells and crazy invention.
A frenetic fanfare closes the proceedings
Tempus fugit? is no exception to the rule. It’s about a clown, with no red nose (Mick Holsbeke), who makes his bowler-hat waltz or juggles with the light of the setting sun. It’s a twisted face-off between two artists who use their bodies as percussion instruments competing with their technique to seduce each other. It’s a tightrope walker (Molly Saudek) who moves forward with tiny steps before breaking into a frenzied dance, it’s a flying violinist or a talented Cyr wheel acrobat. Beneath this big-top all of these artists and even all of the objects dotted around the ring are filled with the stuff of life. A grand piano waltzes overhead, glass bubbles play strange music, a heavy barrel goes crazy and the floor shudders.... Despite the apparent folly the whole show is perfectly timed and orchestrated.
The world of Plume? Benoît Schick’s soft melodies or thunderous overtures, a combination of imaginative fantasy and pure energy... We laugh, we cry. After the two hours of the show, a frenetic fanfare closes the proceedings and the children, parents and grand-parents in the audience all get to their feet as one in ovation.
It’s like this every day, every evening. It’s been like this for thirty years. Already thirty years...
Nedjma VAN EGMOND