What’s Hiding Behind Les Angles Morts

I find myself in a strange position. I have an immense desire to promptly write my review of Les Angles Morts, which I just saw at Tangente, because I feel that I must share this experience with as many as possible. On the other hand, I am still in its grips, unable to shake off the experience, to gain some distance in order to write what I hope would be a lucid piece. Still, I believe that my initial reaction is the most urgent.

Choreographer Mélanie Demers does not waste a single second in submerging us in her world. As we enter the room, it is already populated by eerily immobile humans whose facial features get erased by paper bags: a few scattered in the audience, one lying on the ground in front of a television flashing black-and-white images.

Opera fills the space, animating the creature that lies on the floor. The track progressively begins to skip, creating tension: technical malfunction or carefully designed soundtrack? Either way, our creature’s movement merges with the music in its choppy outbursts.

Another creature enters the stage, this one wearing a large, puffy skirt. Under the boots, the gardening gloves, and the paper bag, Mélanie Demers’s presence is suspected. She energetically performs a reading that is so layered that it is hard to resume its contents. At first glance, it sometimes reminded me of Radiohead’s “Fitter Happier” even though it has strong moments of passion and earnestness.

When they remove the bags from their heads, the other creature is revealed to be Jacques Poulin-Denis, who also composed the music for the show. He offers an athletic solo that demonstrates that he is as equally skilled on the dance floor as he is at the sound console.

The choreography takes a clever and humorous turn when they both put on 3D glasses. Their performance is reminiscent of watching a film in 3D, when a discrepancy emerges between perception and reality. Our arms stretch to touch the images that seem within our reach, yet our hands fail to grasp them. Similarly, their perception of depth often seems to be miscalculated. They step over objects that are not there, as if their glasses enable them to see things that remain invisible to us.

One of the most admirable aspects of Les Angles Morts is that it never loses the atmosphere that it works so hard in creating. Even the transitions that conspicuously take place are so well integrated that they are often just as captivating as the moments they envelop. David Perreault Ninacs’s dynamic lighting should also not go unmentioned as it contributes greatly to our feeling that the world is constantly shifting before our eyes and that we cannot possibly take in everything that there is to see.

I have chosen not to discuss the last part of the show because it is filled with delightful surprises that should be kept secret from potential audience members for optimal enjoyment. It is very difficult to qualify or even quantify Les Angles Morts because it works at such an experiential level that discussing it inevitably feels futile. The only way to truly appreciate it is to experience it. All that I can say is that it will move you to action, and maybe even to creation.

Les Angles Morts continues until Sunday, April 29. It is the second instalment in the Crossings programme where Montreal artists collaborate with artists from other countries. Here, Mélanie Demers found artistic affinities with Boyzie Cekwana from South Africa. Tickets are 16$ and 13$ for students. For more information, call 514-525-1500.