Rémanences

Conception and direction Thierry De Mey

Created and performed by Manuela Rastaldi, Silvana Suarez Cedeño, Yoann Boyer, Dana Augustin, Volodia Lesluin

choreographic assistant Manuela Rastaldi

Camera and calibration Julien Lambert

Film editor Marjorie Cauwel

Sound mixing Xavier Meeus, Juan Palomba

Stage management Nixon Fernandes

Technical Matthieu Virot

-

Production Charleroi Danses, Centre chorégraphique de la Fédération Wallonie-Bruxelles

Coproduction Le Manège.Mons-TRANSDIGITAL / TechnocITé-TRANSDIGITAL
With the support of TRANSDIGITAL / FEDER on the occasion of programme Interreg IV France-Wallonie-Vlaanderen
In partnership with MAXYS Belgium

Thanks to Jan Delye (FLIR Systems AB) / Lionel Collin / David Bogaert / Pierre Pourcel (www.maxys.be)

 

I can’t deny that there’s a link between the thinking involved in scientific research and that involved in this kind of work. Rémanences* effectively came from me trying things out for Prélude à la mer. These attempts can be put into three categories: meteorological interpolations which consisted of chromatic combinations against a backdrop of artificial precipitations (mist, rain and snow), tests using infrared cameras and finally outdoor locations. This last option was used for Prélude with the film eventually being shot in the natural setting of the slowly disappearing Aral Sea.

But right from the start I was really interested in the images I got from using infrared cameras and I always intended going back to it.  I’m used to there being a clash between an artistic approach and new technologies. For example, Light Music is based on algorithms for capturing movement. The notion of something suddenly appearing or more precisely being an accident is all relative when you’re talking about research. In a laboratory setting, it’s crucial to know what you’re searching for so that you can find it. It reminds me of Picasso’s famous saying: “I do not seek, I find”. But it’s true that relationships become evident after the fact, perhaps because they have great resonance. So you have to determine your field of research and be open to things suddenly cropping up by accident. 

 

There’s always a risk of falling into the “demo effect” devoid of any artistic sensibility, and limiting what you see to a functional ordinariness to the detriment of poetic openness. But I’ve always found it a shame for artists to reject the suitability of tools like this. Everything can serve as a tool for the artist. And if the tool is a powerful one, then all the better. That said, the more powerful the tool is, the more artists using it have to be vigilant and show simplicity. To be specific, for Rémanences I was very sparing when it came to what I did. There is very little editing and almost no additional effects. As soon as I find myself confronted with this kind of object, I’m actually attracted to it. I already see it as being on a journey into a powerful imaginative world. But I can’t overestimate what others see, what information strikes them in the first place.

 

This is actually something that has been preoccupying me for years. In Top Shot, one of my earlier pieces, Anne Teresa De Keersmaeker is filmed from above, offering a palpable trace in real time of the choreography which she executes on white sand. The movement is imprinted de facto in a legible way and gradually draws the outline of a figure like a mandala. It’s almost as if this preoccupation with the trace is a mise en abyme, knowing that for its part the film is both a witness and a vehicle of this trace.

In a completely different repertoire since it concerns one of my musical pieces, Light Music originates from the same preoccupation when you know that the conductor’s movements are translated on screen by algorithms. In this case, the trace is even thought out a priori since you have to codify the movement first using a score.

 

Something Valéry wrote that lies close to my heart is: “What man has that is most profound is his skin” and actually in Rémanences this saying is illustrated in the most explicit way possible. Thermal images reveal an unexpected intimacy. I find this work very sensual, admittedly deflected slightly by being reminiscent of medical imagery – ultrasounds will come to mind for some – but at the same time the body is revealed in a unique and very strange way. Breath for example, initially a white background in the dark when the steam gives way to condensation.

Before all else, the trace in Rémanences is the mark the body leaves on what is around it: bodies or materials. A trace that endures beyond the action itself (hence the title of this work) but which is of a finite duration, even making us think of our own finiteness. In the same way, you could say that any artistic attempt is a form of remanence. Doesn’t the artist also conceive his gesture as something that will survive him for a period of time, however brief?

 

The immediate references obviously go back to playing with impressions and casts. From a strictly plastic point of view and in the given context, the references I get are those of the Holy Shroud for example, something elusive. This mystical aura (?) also leads me to interpret other sequences like the one called “the diver” which will form the central tableau in the installation. It is a reference to The Diver's Tomb fresco, a funerary work dating from around 500 BC depicting an athlete diving into the water. A strong image for symbolising the leap into the beyond.

When I view all these images, a complete and very contrasting pictorial pantheon also comes to mind: Matisse, Klein, Braque, Picasso and even Hokusai. I’m thinking of the Dream of the Fisherman's Wife. But with this last one, there’s nothing referential in terms of style; it’s more down to the enigmatic form evoking a sea monster moving over the woman’s body. In any case it’s a powerful illustration of the evocative power of these images. In that sense, the aesthetics of Rémanences is metaphysical because you’re entering a domain governed by an imagination which knows no bounds. And with this project, I’m actually opening a new door that is proving to be full of potential. 

 

This idea of using circus artists came during a discussion with Gwénola David, assistant director of the National Centre of Circus Arts (CNAC). She inspired me to explore verticality in a particular context and showed me the work done by CNAC students over the year. I was bowled over by it. In fact there are physical mechanisms in them which offer a very powerful visualisation. There is logic of movement, a way of shifting and producing impressions which is unique, very different from the ones left by dancers. There’s also a very sensual side to this difference. You could say it’s the body’s signature. 

 

I first thought of projecting it onto marble, a cold, veined surface reminiscent of the aesthetics of the catafalque and found in certain sequences where shapes are outlined in an ephemeral way. And then, in an empirical way we headed towards using a frosted transparent screen. The advantage of this is to expand the spectre of the perception of movement: you can then increase viewpoints by occasionally placing yourself in the direction of the projection and sometimes in the flow of the retro projection, and in these mirroring effects you see the other – my double – fill the frame. 

 

Each tableau will have its own sound environment. A way of relating what I am intending when it comes to intimacy with the body and perhaps even bringing it a bit more in line. So it more a case of “listening chambers”, alcoves that allow the spectator to be plunged each time into a distinct climate. It will involve textures and sound atmospheres rather than a real score. I like this notion of kinetoscope that the film museum is fond of, mainly because the imagery developed in Rémanences also brings the early days of cinema to mind. 

 

 

Interview by Ivo Ghizzardi

La Raffinerie, Charleroi Danses

Brussels, 23 February 2010