Vegetable Cannibal ritual
La Mercè Auditorium. It is Sunday, five o'clock p. m. The cold freezes the spirit. We get in with a light mood, wrapped up until the nose tip, hands in pockets. Inside, but, there is nobody there, there is nothing. Foolishly we are looking at each others, we are unprotected. There is a whisper like a breeze. A curtain slightly opens; a woman's head invites us to follow her. We go in; we obey the indications and we enter in a pit dump. In front of us a huge cook with a stonemason t-shirt, baggy trousers tied with a lace and slippers; with a saucepan in the hand stirs a vegetable stew, the aromatic stink fills the atmosphere. A metallic arm comes out from the helmet that she wears on her head which ends up in a light flake. The tool-lamp is a lantern in the kitchen. There is a wooden bar and a burner, lots of cooking utensils and a light door behind; there is a little upholstery round table near, a hanger, chairs and a radio that murmurs. We are all crowded together, stood up, the mate and the way he looks at us fascinate us, and disgusts while he scratches the tool. We try to imagine things. Behind us a white curtain surrounds it all. With a gesture, we are invited to have a taste. The housekeeper shares cones full of an enigmatic pastry made of vegetables. The man fills them up, the woman delivers inquisitively. A fifty's music peals from the background. Suddenly the curtains raise and, behind, we see set up stands made of wood. We go there among enigmatic smiles. When we sit down we have some teaspoons so we can eat the hotchpotch. Could we be the show?
From the half-light, the diabolic couple starts its clumsy dance. As if they were a couple of children reproducing circus moments in a fair, they imitate birds, they play with chairs, throw knifes, they train and hypnotize an amazing turkey...they laugh of happiness and enjoy themselves enormously; they show a tender and loving way of taken delight while sadism gestures persist constantly and disturb us. In the middle of loads of vegetables, sharps and sharpened carvings, they choose, cut, prick; mix up, do and seem a kind of...And then wielding an enormous knife in the hand and staring at us with his eyes popping out of his head...
Escarlata Circus has created an unprecedented show, of primary and grotesque sense of humour, with a circus spirit and out of all classes, out of all parameters, of great originality and no absent of intentionally. Starting from object manipulation and giving them humanity they obtain a kind of tragic illusionism where we see our unworthy condition full of a nervous and recognized air that embarrasses the agreed limits. Both interpreters, Jordi Aspa and Bet Miralta, personify the most entertaining insanity while they instil a disturbing worry, always between the limit that balances the joke and the alienation. Fabulous!
Interpreters: Escarlata Circus (Jordi Aspa and Bet Miralta).
Place and date: La Mercè Auditorium, 30th November.
JOAQUIM ARMENGOL
El Punt
Wednesday 3 december 2008
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Escarlata Circus
bet@escarlata.com aspa@escarlata.com
carrer Major, 25
08461 St. Esteve de Palautordera (Barcelona) Spain
Tel. +34 938 451 990