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Invisible is an ode for 10 performers, a celebratory space of joyous complicity inviting audiences and performers to play, exchange and connect. Over 72 hours, the spectator is called to experience the continuum of time and nourish the work’s transformation through different interventions.
Artistic direction:
Aurélie Pedron
Set design:
Kévin Pinvidic
Interactive sound environment:
Alexandre Burton
Technical direction:
Samuel Thériault
Financial supports:
Conseil des arts du Canada, Conseil des arts et des lettres du Québec, Conseil des arts de Montréal
Creation residencies:
Maison pour la danse de Québec, Maison de la culture Notre-Dame-de-Grâce, Espace Marie Chouinard, LAVI – Laboratoire Arts Vivants et Interdisciplinarité, Département de danse de l'UQAM
Agent diffusion:
Art Circulation
Dancers:
Ariane Boulet, Charles Brécard, Rachel Harris, Emmanuel Jouthe, Luce Lainé, Abe Simon Mijnheer, Caroline Namts, Charlie Prince, Silvia Sanchez, Zoë Vos
Lighting design:
Chantal Labonté, Hugo Dalphond
Dramaturgy:
Kathy Casey
Coproduction:
Danse-Cité, Montréal Danse, Lilith & Cie
Partners:
LAVI – Laboratoire Arts Vivants et Interdisciplinarité, Département de danse de l'UQAM
Images:
Denis Martin
Time becomes an architect. The dancers’ everyday lives fold into the work, and the work invites itself into the everyday lives of the spectators. A significant choice of time frame, seventy-two hours corresponds to three rotations of the earth: one day to shed habits, a second to be born again to the self and the other, and a third day to discover possibilities.
Rather than promoting a marathon mindset or a sense of exhaustion, the path of Invisible garners the power of the group to cross limits or thresholds, be they personal or collective. At the heart of the work: the sense of community formed through ritual.
With a ticket purchase, the audience member can come and return as much as they wish at any time of day or night to experience the choreography’s transformation. The nine dancers are not all always active, but at all times, at least one is there, guardian of the spiral, the dance’s motor.
In a location part way between living room, flea market and sacred space, the spectator chooses their vantage point, their interventions, and can read the dancers’ notes, speak to them on the phone (from the venue or later, from their home), play the card game, play music or simply witness.