SKIN/À Fleur de Peau

A collaborative dance, music and sculpture project by Barbara Bourget, Lyse Lemieux and Marguerite Witvoet

Performances of SKIN/À Fleur de Peau were presented by the Vancouver International Dance Festival from March 24-26, 2005 and SKIN; An installation from March 8 to 26, 2005.

SKIN/à fleur de peau was a project originating with Lyse Lemieux’s desire to create an interdisciplinary event that included her tunique sculptures. The project started as a series of meetings between butoh dancer and choreographer Barbara Bourget, composer Marguerite Witvoet and visual artist Lyse Lemieux exchaning ideas and thoughts around the concept of skin as an agent and witness to memory, change and transformation. The project became an installation as well as a performance event that explored the nature of the skin and skins we wear. A three week instllation of latex sculptural dresses by Lyse Lemieux with an interactive soundscape by Marguerite Witvoet was transformed on the last three days of the 2005 Vancouver International Dance Festival into a performance event featuring Barbara Bourget.

Composer Marguerite Witvoet introduced the extraordinary poetry of Québec write Anne Hébert as well as the Scottish myth of the Selkie , both of which speak of skins that inhibit and inspire change.These sources became important tools of reference as ideas developed collaboratively into the visual, aural and choreographic arena of SKINS/ à fleur de peau.

Choreography and performance: Barbara BOURGET, Sculptures and dresses: Lyse LEMIEUX, Composer: Marguerite WITVOET. Poetry: Anne HÉBERT. Sound: Zoe MCDOUGALL & Jim McPHERSON. Lighting: Gerald KING & Larisa FAYAD.

TROP À L’ÉTROIT                 

Anne Hébert

Trop à l’étroit dans le malheur, l’ayant crevé comme une vieille peau Vieille tunique craque aux coutures, se déchire et se fend de bas en haut .L’ayant habité à sueur et à sang, vétuste caverne ou s’ébrèche l’ombre du soleil. Ayant épuisé de tristes amours, la vie en rond, le cœur sans levain. Nous sommes réveillés un matin, nus et seuls sur la pierre de feu. Et la beauté du jour nous trouva sans défense, si vulnérables et doux de larmes. Qu’aussitôt elle nous coucha en joue comme des fusillés tranquilles.

Photo documentation by Yukiko Onley