LA REVUE i | 2013 – 2015
Feedback on the experience lived at the Col du Coq with the project in situ WAOUHHHHH!
How lucky to have allowed us to invent this project at Col du Coq – a sensitive and natural space – to experience and live these paths of thought and body closer to nature but also closer to the public.
This rare and direct relationship to others, closer to the living and the sensitive, without diversion or distancing, has established between people a sparkling and unexpected relationship.
During the twelve tours, we were able to guide people so different from each other that each course has invented its own identity, its own rhythm and its own energy, as in response to the exploration proposed by the artists. A freedom and wealth quite exceptional, while sharing!
Sometimes the disparities within the group have brought out the concepts underlying the given physical instructions, such as: living together, the individual in front of the community, the gaze on the other, the look at his environment, his place and the place of the other.
The unpredictable and adaptable were the watchwords of this day throughout the different courses, whether for artists or participants.
The experiences lived marked our minds and our body. The WAOUHHHHH team was enthusiastic about coming out of this amazing day, although, we can now admit it, it was a real marathon and challenge for us!
This path and experience were both rare and precious for us artists. She showed us our own limits (concentration, mastery, endurance on three courses), she told us our apprehensions (the control of the time of each course in front of a heterogeneous group, responsibility towards the older people and more in difficulty for the second course), it revealed to us our doubts (effort to provide for the less trained people, slippery ground and descent of the slope at nightfall, to keep confidence and serenity and to awaken and transmit this confidence to the other), it has affirmed our convictions (to reopen the eye and touch the sensitive by proposing to the people another practice of the walk which gives free course to the vagrancy of the spirit and to the contemplation by moment while keeping a guideline and in integrating into a group), but it also allowed us to be attentive to our body, their body and our intuitions, while putting back into play not ability to unite while respecting each other’s differences and individualities.
Does having a better awareness of one’s own body – as a means of global expression and a vector of communication to others –
will change our relationship to the world?
will change our course?
will change our look?
will change our sensitivity?
will change our listening and our actions?
will change our place today for tomorrow?
An artistic and sensitive march as a human and universal base to touch the sensitive buried in us?
An abyss of our own feelings?
walking as a vector and access to concentration walking as a meditation or personal introspection walking as the mobility of the body walking as smart feet and confident walking to make us energy and create a bond to others walking as a common and personal rhythm walking as mobile thinking, evolutionary, without borders and limits walking as a deep breathing walking as an experience and a surpassing oneself walking to get closer to nature walking to blend into nature the walk to rediscover nature walking to become movement walking like a dance walking as a trivial and universal act.
October 2 & 4, 2015 the courses
For these courses we have been able to put in place and in action a whole range of educational values in the form of playful body exercises – instructions both technical and physical – related to nature, the group and oneself:
we dance a contemporary ritual,
we isolated ourselves with our helmet,
we listen to our footsteps and a voice,
we observe our breathing,
we feel the air on the skin,
we are aware of the covered and uncovered parts of the body
we walk individually yet in a group, listening to our neighbor,
we are deliberately slowing down
we will stop to listen to the sounds of nature
we observe our progress and our weight transfer
we replace our eyes by the feet to scan the ground
we observe our hips and their movement
we listen to our ribcage
we think of something else, nothing to do, our mind wanders
we walk effortlessly
we are walking differently
we project our gaze far ahead
we scan space and observe every detail of nature
we find a diversity rich in colors, textures, reliefs.
we stop for a short moment, the sun warms our face
we (re) charge our natural batteries,
we go from one point to another using the gaze to climb the slope,
we walk on the spot, near the tree
we are out of breath,
we turn around our own axis, our eyes open then closed,
we print a panoramic photo on the retina,
we are free to continue our way up,
we are engaged in an individual movement and yet in a group.
we are sitting at the edge of a path contemplating the panorama of the rooster’s pass,
we draw with our nose, our chin, our cheek, our forehead, our shoulder, our eyes,
we listen to an excerpt of text from a book facing the panoramic view,
praise of David Lebreton’s march
What does the end of the road matter when only the path traveled is counted? We do not make a trip, the trip makes us and defeats us, it invents us. And if we come here at the end of writing, the last word is just a step along the way. The blank page is always a threshold. Fortunately we will go on walks in the cities of the world, forests, mountains, deserts, for other provisions of images and sensory, discover other places and other faces, seek excuse to write, renew our look, never forgetting that the earth is made for the feet rather than the tires and that as long as we have a body it should be used. The land is round and by doing the tour we are one day at its starting point, already ready for another trip. So many roads, so many paths, so many villages, towns, hills, woods, mountains, sea, as many paths to reach them, feel them, watch them, hug our memory in the jubilation of having come the. The trails, the land, the sand, the seasides, even the mud or the rocks, are the measure of the body and the thrill of existing
we completely reverse ourselves
we look at the world upside down
we walk again a step changed
we look at the ground like a model – seen from an airplane
we walk in single file
we are body by body
we walk in the footsteps of each other
we are a great body
we are together
we marry a stone
we listen to the echo escaping
we air our toes
we discover the contact with the ground bare magpies
we are listening to new or forgotten sensations
we guide our partner and we are guided
we dance a slow alone, two, three, group
we drive in the grass
we find our breath, it has changed
we are out of balance
we follow our expiration to go to the end of the movement
we became a momentum, a race
we are connected in a group
we walk together
we are one strange body
we are tall, small, tight, wide, crooked, nested
we are confident
we are an abstract form
we are the memory of a contact
we’re listening to a second piece of text from the book
– praise of David Lebreton’s march
The march is opening to the world. It restores man in the happy feeling of his existence. It plunges into an active form of meditation seeking full sensoriality. Sometimes we come back changed, more inclined to enjoy the time than to be put to the test when we exist. It plunges into an active form of meditation soliciting a full sense of submitting to the urgency prevalent in our contemporary lives. To walk, is to live by body, provisionally or durably. Recourse to the forest, the roads or the paths, does not exempt us from our increasing responsibilities towards the disorders of the world, but it makes it possible to catch one’s breath, to sharpen one’s senses to renew one’s curiosity. Walking is often a detour to look like oneself. Roland Barthes pointed already in the 50s, that walking is perhaps mythologically the most trivial gesture so the most human.
we walk silently towards the music and our starting point
we listen to the flute
we make one last stop and dream
we watch the rooster dance
… in these difficult and disturbed times, more than ever, any artistic act outside the stage becomes vital, thus enabling us to question the world in which we live and evolve together, outside political and societal issues. Waouhhhhh! is an ephemeral utopia in motion, a parenthesis offered to the sensitive, a moment where movement, dance and mobility are at the heart of our daily action, political and civic in harmony with our environment. It is a universal experience, accessible and open to all. This place, this moment spent together, becomes a place and a time of emancipation, of freedom, open to difference. This is how we will do society. Let’s flood our planet with the warmth of walking bodies and beating hearts.
Dance, walking as the only flag!
Body, whole, carnal, determined, attentive to its environment and to others retaining a unique thought by individual, dedicated to its labyrinthine and individual history.
Today, the state of emergency – a busy state – makes us tremble, lose the sensation of the sensitive. We must be singing, dancing, shouting, loving, walking, listening, supporting their neighbor. We will go beyond our own limits or barriers, as we did during the course for some.
We will move our mental and bodily boundaries, those of the understanding, the surprise, the necessity, the curiosity and the discovery to touch the sensitive. Nature as a source of energy, undeniably important resource, precious and necessary to continue …
December 2015 Christian UBL
(…) we must continue, I can not continue, we must continue, so I will continue, we must say words, as long as there are, we must say, until they find me, until they say to me, strange pain, strange fault, it is necessary to continue, it is perhaps already done, they may have already said to me, they may have brought me to the threshold of my story, in front of the door that opens on my story, it would surprise me, if it opens, it’ll be me, it’ll be the silence, where I am, I do not know I will never know, in the silence we do not know, we must continue, I can not continue, I will continue.
Samuel Beckett, The Unnameable, Editions of Minuit, 1953