CIE 111
“I try to get mankind to meet head-on with something that is totally unfamiliar by using a specific space or an object placed on stage to which I add the capacity of movement and action.” – Aurelien Bory, Director
A regular high-roller at London’s annual International Mime Festival, Compagnie 111 is not unfamiliar with success. Recognised for their expertise in corporeal mime (and let’s just acknowledge briefly that the father of corporeal mime, Etienne Decroux, was a Frenchman), circus, object manipulation, innovation, and stunning imagery, it is no surprise that their latest piece, “Sans Objet,” is a hit among festival-goers this year.
I consider myself lucky to see such an extraordinary piece of art, not only because it is highly stimulating, but because of it’s hypnotic effect on the entire audience, artists and non-artists alike. The awe in the theatre is tangible, breathes held, eyes wide as the Machine, a 1970’s industrial assembly-line robotic arm, begins to move beneath a massive plastic sheet, dancing through space as if by magic.
The magic is in the manipulation, of course. And that’s something Bory is quite clear on: “[The machine] is, of course, programmed because it is precise, very, very precise. I want it to work that way because a machine can be precise [in a way that a human cannot]. So precise, in fact, it’s incredible – within one-tenth of a millimetre” (Discussions with Aurelien Bory, CIE 111, Southbank Centre, 22 January 2011). And it truly is magnificent to behold, this dichotomy between Man and Machine, punctuated by the Machine’s inexhaustible capacities for movement in contrast to the two men, sweat-drenched and worn-out by the end of the two-hour show. But that’s part of what Bory is going for here: examining the ever-complex relationship between mankind and technology. Well, it shows.
As the two men are introduced into this robot’s world (because it is the Machine’s domain, here), we see a tickling, harmonious relationship evolve. It is symbiotic at first: Man and Machine move gracefully in tandem, dancing a surreal tango through space and time. It is seamless, fluid, almost unreal. I feel lightheaded and realise I haven’t blinked in a few minutes. This is what a trance must feel like, I muse. Then, before we can begin to register that something has gone amiss, the men have lost their power in this world, and the Machine’s full force dominates the space. It is dehumanising, almost tragic, to watch these men struggle to hold themselves together here. And yet we somehow feel for the Machine, such a lonely, beautiful beast.
So then, actually, the question for me becomes, “Why do we feel for this… thing?” Surely, we can be most appreciative and properly awed by the incredible feats of strength these two men, Olivier Alenda and Olivier Boyer, are performing before our eyes, defying the rules of gravity and using space like a plaything. They execute their physicality with the same precision of the Machine, it seems; they are like gods. But this beauty and strength of form, the shapes of their bodies against the architecture of the robot, fades as they weaken. The Machine never weakens. But we have endowed it with feeling, we have given it a life and a purpose and a meaning. Like the locket your grandmother gave you as a child, the Machine is special to us, and we care about its fate.
This is a phenomenon that Bory is familiar with. In fact, he counts on it. When he uses objects on stage, he is hoping that we, the audience, will endow it with feelings, thoughts, associations, and characteristics simply by watching it. This is not an entirely conscious process, but it’s very real. Anyone who’s hoarded their baby blanket for more than twenty-three years knows it is, anyway. Bory likes to facilitate a bit of that in his work. He also likes to open doors for his audience. Perhaps he is not the doorman, perhaps we do not walk through – but he opens them for us, and we enter at our own risk. Hint: it’s always worth taking these risks.
“In my productions I try to leave spectators a lot of leeway. They themselves complete the work through an association of ideas, through their own references, through recognition and experience and through everything that influences the way they appropriate what they are seeing… Our view of [the robot] changes [when taken out of context]. It becomes the receptacle and mirror of our projections. I see theatre a bit like that.” -Aurelien Bory, Director
CIE 111, Performed at The Southbank Centre, 22 January 2010
Words: Anne Hightower Wareing
