23 years ago she decided to gather the letters from readers of women’s magazines from the 50s and 60s, the ancestors of Instagram, WhatsApp, and Facebook, to perform them at the Théâtre des Carmes during the Avignon off-festival.
Today, this show has gained more flavor, weight, and comedic effect in these times of feminist revolution and the Me Too movement. These are testimonies sent to local newspapers, psychologists, doctors, which have contributed to liberating women’s voices.
By interpreting them, Clémence Massart embodies these letters and these women, using picturesque accents, making her voice younger or older, always funny, profound, childlike, or mature. Long before May 68, the pill, the Women’s Liberation Movement, and the abortion law, these messages from women of all backgrounds and ages provide an insight into intimate questions about love, sexuality, adultery, pregnancy. They are the result of centuries of patriarchal or biological subjugation focused on procreation.
A circus actress at the beginning, long-time partner and accomplice in theater since the Cartoucherie of Vincennes, with Philippe Caubère directing her, this artistic, poetic, musical phenomenon (she sometimes accompanies herself with an accordion) that is Clémence delivers a joyful show, rich in personalities, moving but never whiny.
The texts come to life thanks to the actress, alert, with undeniable vivacity of course (she was part of the Grand Magic Circus troupe of Jérôme Savary) but are written with great care. The vocabulary is chosen, precise, of great quality, sometimes cheeky, and highlights the clumsiness, the emotions of these anonymous people in need of advice who sign with a first name and the name of their town.
Caubère’s direction brings a slightly dreamy aspect to the performance with changes in play rhythm, various lighting so that Clémence shines, is in the fullness of her art as an interpreter, a soul-sharer. Come see this life lesson through theater and appreciate the evocative power of these texts so modern in essence under an outdated but charming form.
Roland Haugade
