Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 61

Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 61

the car boot, and finally back home, right time to start lighting this barbecue. But first, they poured themselves drink in cups of different sizes, of different importance. They cheered and just enjoyed the day like a shear moment of joy. Complacency might be a disease, they enjoyed the illness at this time. People came, joined and left. And left this special emotion of the instantaneous moment within each memories. After cleaning up the remaining, Justin and Henri sat in the living room and reviewed the play once again, in the week end free time that was their given tomorrow, they would be eaten once again by the normal day at work. 24 Premiere Came the long awaited premiere, with everything nearly completed: the text, the decoration, the organization of the queue and so on, and so on. A premiere that wasnt meet with a lot of people. Couldnt be the price, Henri and Justin paid for the whole set up, and the rent of the scene was negotiated for free. Still it appeared that three pounds on a Sunday evening was not the perfect match. Perhaps was it even a total mismatch with what they considered as their customer base. They would confirm it at the small gathering they organized after the performance. Maybe some snacks and drinks would untie the tongue around the audience. They put the buffet in order, and welcomed the public who wanted to within the premises. Interestingly enough, seventy-five percents of the audience was there. It could be due to the free booze and meal, still the discussion coming after were as valuable as Henri was expecting them to me. So back home, he discussed with Justin and finally concluded in a report of actions summarized below, preparing this way what they hoped would be the next performance. Wrong time. Sunday is a peace time, away from parties on Thursday Friday or Saturday, it was a unique moment to hang out with family and very closed friends and most of all the last relaxing time before the D2D business week will hit again. Wrong place. Well the place went well with the global atmosphere of the play. Still, would you have idea to do a performance somewhere away from where the people were hanging out? Everything could be wrong, that would not mean the end could be or not be right. No promotion, or a small amount, that and distribution were items that they escaped too easily, rather focusing to the tangible actions on can do, rather than the intangibles on which most communication was relying on. Well, yes, they used digital canals, they put an excerpt of the play online, even some footage on YouTube(. But forcing people out of the digital world to enter the real world was not the best solution. For the second performance, they would hit the streets and create the buzz via a public performance, simple as that, a Sunday afternoon within the commercial part of the town, and An over the counter distribution which meant people had first to come over here this lost of part of the town, before knowing there was a play. The resources were dim, and not allowing too much extravaganza on this parameter. Henri discovered straight the inside power of having a team around to sort it all out properly. Of course, actors, Justin and the place owner, were fitting perfectly in this team. But this latter was too small for the promises Henri got in his mind at the end of his two-month preparation. Over expectations, and an under-selling, a paradox, and an odd couple that did miss the ceremony one has planned in his mind perfectly, in this place not perfectly. Looking around, Henri felt like a salesman in a clothes store. He designed some new suits, and found it difficult to adapt it to its customer base, if a customer base existed. So they put another plan in action for the next performances just one week

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🔖 Labels : Un Homme Pressé, Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 61

Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 60

Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 60

to pour in his hears. Some actors, some readers, some place where to do this stuff, more in details. He fitted in change like a bee on the verge of getting her throne. Gosh, one nice comment, and another one, and he had to quickly escape these fake illusions, keeping fighting hard for what was in front. Yes backlash as well, ensuring everything went to order. Fortunately, they were as different as the layers of earth, and came one negative criticism, and another one, and another one. Morning after the mourning, this nice situation where he met some interested people in the play, and faced criticism of his writing, of his play, of his directing. Well everything wasnt fixed, and everything wasnt meant to be all in place. More on the contrary. 23 Left to the right The first rehearsal done, more confusion came than a clear final plot in mind. During his browsing time, to kill some minutes that were spent too fast, he went on the net, and inputted the whole text in one search engine to check for possible references. From cinema, to arts exhibitions, to other writings, his text was a mere patchwork from another view, of course, still, a mere patchwork. As time went on, and lines were stacking up through a series of white paper, ideas, style of writing, were something he felt personal. Still, taking the time to read around, he could see he didnt invent anything, he didnt create anything. Who would it be to think so? Reading through books found by luck in a library, and by luck, he didnt mean he was in a library, he just left his eyes through the shelves as soon as entering, and here came a quest he enjoyed a lot. Browsing around, speaking altogether, he discovered some new and new books. And gosh was it his culture that was framed through the long education he has carried out. At every corner of a book, he would find something linking to something else, linking to what he personally thought, and hence reflected in his own writings. How would copyright stand at a time where everything is shared? Would it be a limit to creativity? Well he didnt know, and values a highly expected: What the hell If it was already done, so it was, still he had to do it. An inner voice spoke to him: Come on man, you are just reinventing the wheel there, whats worth??? At least, I am inventing something, am I? Perhaps you are rethinking it through another point of view, still wont go as far as reinventing the wheel. Ok Nothing new in what you wrote Nice Just the spectrum of what you see from what youve read, messed up with lines of emotions you personally fell True, I am always falling for emotions Still, are they true? He couldnt stand speaking to himself even more. He joined the patio, and just took a break from any thoughts, any thoughts at all. The house was planning to have a barbecue, perhaps time for him to add his stone to the life of this house. Joy of the life in the UK, supermarkets were opened even on a Sunday. So he joined Justin and the flat mate to go over the shopping list. As soon as the car parked, he took control of driving the shopping cart, and from there on, he was the unique meeting point around the supermarket, meeting point of two other electrons meeting him the alleys with a pack of stuff pouring into the cart, every time. He just let his mind drift, when he saw the composition in colors, in writings, in categories, lying in front of him. How to get lost in a supermarket? Might be another play he always had a dream since he was a child of being lost a night in a supermarket. Still, there, we werent at night, and the alleys were crowded by people hurrying between shelves of various products, always going for what they were looking for, at least an idea. And came the time at the cash machine, and the loading in

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🔖 Labels : Un Homme Pressé, Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 60

Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 59

Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 59

surprising O, with no N, to the French M, to the L, to the key, waving to Jay, to the I, leaving the H, to the gee, the blossoming F, and its He, to what did you say, ok lets see, ride the Bi. *** Henri was consumed by this evil inside worm, common disease of our modern times, he kept giving advices. Good he should, given he is now directing a play. Still, he missed there some guidance, somebody who could help him to blossom along the inside thoughts he had and put in frame a full realistic map taking its root in the present. Listening, he was. Filtering what came to him, it was even more. 22 The morning after Yo lo busco, te lo envió. What? Burp. So, Thats life, thats a game???? Henri will see through the very first performance he would set up. They were now quite close to the premiere. They did set up a performance with friends and mates, a normal rehearsal planned to check if everything was ok Act I went smoothly, an unsettled breeze going through the mind of each of the audience. Something strange, certainly trying to tie it to some experiences in the past. But as soon as they were drawn in the game, they witnessed the actor leaving the scene as dead. Shivers through the audience, or at least a slight disbelief with regards to the realism of this story. Seeing this passive audience, attentive but passive, and once again, not a negative criticism in all extent. Henri left the booth he was stuck in and joined the scene midway between Scene 2 and Scene 3. Ladies, Gentlemen, thanks for coming, I, and the team, really appreciate. It s a dream coming true and I am really thankful for you dedicating the time to some rubbish I wrote, feeling quite inspired. One clap, before he continued So now, yes weve seen Romain dead walking to the end of the game, and I would like to try one thing, might or might not be in the final performance, I would like you, yes you all, to contribute. Silence in the crowd, dubious of what will be next, or they just didnt care. It pointed them with a finger, not this one: YOU are my inspiration. In fact, I am a thief, a ghost writer of the lives I am witnessing all around, looking to bring one side on paper So who wants to go on stage? You know the rules, you know the game, time to feel the flow. Silence Come on One voice, more a whisper, started to build a phrase somewhere in the audience. I feel unpowered to do so. I am deeply congested through an iceberg of emotions that stops me from moving, realistically and physically moving. The play bends us too soon into these humanistic question. Why didnt you continue to relax the atmosphere and set that event in scene 4? Good, anybody else, express yourself, I give you the dices. Game officer, come here and please give me your cards. Two spectators stood up and came to the scene. . Another look, different eyes, and a setting fitting the scene in unsettlement of the whole situation. Scene three, four and five went as, well he couldnt remember, he was deep in writing again some other thoughts, still everything grasped by what he hoped was surprises. One of the spectators on scene was especially good at picturing emotions and made the whole audience shiver. She couldnt stand with the flow scene 1 and 2 set up, and she challenged any single moves the play was. Well that was it. Did he intend to put a play on scene and to play a board game directly with the audience? Maybe time to find more cards rather than focusing on putting words in mouth of others. Back home, he put the draft onto the net. A pretty catchy one. He didnt know more, neither was he aware of whom to send it to, just a general burp that might make the buzz on the electronic net of the utterly sensible internet. Both from the online and the offline community, feedbacks started

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🔖 Labels : Un Homme Pressé, Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 59

Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 58

Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 58

festivals, to bands in their way for fame, to other ads of people searching an accommodation. So yes, there, he put that on place. Young director searching actors and actresses. The play will be on stage on April the 25th. Currently lining up with the bristolian comedy club for advices and insights on the play. If interested, please ring XXXXXXXXXXX. A first play, Young Actors, up to you to put life on a traditional 3D theater He reviewed it straight, and thought this wasnt characterizing the dynamism of the experience. What could he do? What could he draw? A simple drawing to make that a poster, a logo that can be remembered, or at least that could attract the eyes of the unknown. The main idea conveyed by the message was: We need you . Yet, we dont have anything in rewards, we need you and thats all, come and enjoy the adventure with us. Adventure, adventure, a quest, some stones that could be let in the walking by person that would make him to stop. He came back on some ideas he drew in his youth. WE NEED U / STAGE Or Tel.: 0044 XXX XXXX XXX Something bothered him, he was smiling, still this logo wasnt expressing anything , no story, no movements, no dynamics to the whole universe he tried to create and the second one was just too confusing and not holding any information at all. His eyes stopped their move across an even older sketch he drew, something that, he believed, was picturing the movements, and some unexpected emotions in the reader Henri came back from the green and prepared lunch. He had this fear of the writing block, no longer impacting his novels, but impacting the setting of the word in the frame of a performance. Yes a performance it was. To entertain people for 45 mins would be the least objective he was aiming to. To get people enjoy it and come back to ask questions would be subject to an interest he cannot grab, he wouldnt like to forecast. Just do it. The swoosh came back with him during a run. No, not something special, just an out of frame gesture putting him back in order. While he ran as fast as he could, he overtook walkers from the road. Bad move, it was a turn, a car was there. He was just feeling like he resented the whole flow of his own play. The energy was draining out of his body, he could only think of throwing the dices, but which dices? Gosh that overwhelming feeling, shortly after, he started to suffocate. Literally, a fully fledging jail of air missing inspirations. Short decision, he decided to light up a spliff, and he soon joined the garden to travel on the back of the clouds, his mind projecting his head in the lightness of being human, Thanks Milan for granting the expression. He enjoyed how the time slowed out. He drank from the bottle of water next to him and enjoyed the flow of freshness through his whole body. That was a moment like any, he was able to feel both unresponsive and totally attentive to what was going on. Here, now, at the moment, just in a sphere of approximately two meters. Nothing more, nothing less. Just this perception of time slowing down and him, the delicacy in grasping the instantaneous moment. A long wide exposed photography imprinted forever in the honeycomb of his own mind. So, yes he finally finished to slowly awaken, only to regret leaving this state of mind that was so kind. If the performance wasnt up to the expectations, what the hell, at least he tried. Sometimes you have to perform, sometimes you have to enjoy jus the time now. In a path linking A to B, why going directly to this shortcut of the alphabet, why not turning around and going in reverse? There was more fur going from the A to the Z, to why, to the X, to the double you, to the ticking V, to the you, to the tea, to the S, to are, overtaking the Q, to have a pee, a

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🔖 Labels : Un Homme Pressé, Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 58

Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 57

Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 57

thought to catch them later. He never did So back home, sweet smell of the known, he just sat, switched on the TV, and watched the top ten replay from the football games. 10 AM, the house went into a crazy move of every single entities moving in a defined path unknown from the others, a life in itself, an ecosystem supporting the life of the house. The wall were vibrating, some cheers went through the double layer of the windows. It was cricket time. Henri stormed out of his room, and met Justin down the hallway. Hiya, going to the field watching cricket, fancy coming? Why not, let me grab my jacket Not that Henri knew cricket, it was a good time to let the spirit settle and think of something else. Its where he would meet the muse for whose he wrote this music. What was he thinking about? Hey you up there, I told you not to enter my brain. Second warning. As soon as he got excited speaking to the invisible, this thought vanished and went back deep-buried in the cemetery of lost thoughts. This way, Justin lost the track of what he was thinking and turned to his mate: So Henri, thinking of putting your writing in less pensive, more acting mode? What are you speaking about? Some moves, dynamic moves. You have a good set up of the people. Ive seen what you are thinking of in your scale down model, still how are you going to fill the whole space? Only with a board game? True, something I havent checked yet, I was focusing on the speech and the lyrics and missed this point around. Still at one stage, I believe scene III, the actors are going through the audience and start to speak. Well yes, thats a start, but didnt you think of having more contribution from the audience, build on the unexpected reaction from one to the other It is my first play, it is for fun, I can see more and more complexity thinking your way. Its to be prepared, and to grab the audience in an unanimous wave. Will never happen, how many people will be attending it? Perhaps 10, 20, maybe 30. I am keeping that as a gift, I want the surprise of seeing their reaction. And the costume, where are you doing it? And the make-up? On the go, we are in England, there are 7 11 all around, why should it be different through this play The unexpected will bring its doses of silence, it will break the rhythm of the play, and perhaps even worst, the flow of the whole scene. You know that last impressions are the one that count, you cannot gamble on a series of cock-ups. You should enter politics, you would be a great assistant in setting up the scene and the speech during the election time. Did it, not worth. Ok, I am taking numbers here just to give an idea, nothing more. In an audience, you have 50% of the people sharing the same conviction as the person giving the speech, 10% of journalists, and the remaining 40% of opponents or not well yet totally decided where their voting will go. Surprises are much less than the one we will witness on your play. Ok, so tell me, dont have any actors yet, fancy looking at that, and starting to recruit, your help would be invaluable there. And, yes I do see you in the play, just pick up the one you would enjoy and go. I am free to choose any actors Totally, and as soon as they can remember 10 lines and express an emotion Ok, I am coming back home, I do enjoy that. Back home, he plugged on facebook, and put the announcements to the Bristol area, to his friends, to the unknowns people across the streets that might be interested, well interested is a big word. He had no fish to attract the prey, only the pleasure of going on scene, playing 5 acts, and going back to the usual day to day life. He gave a shot at writing an ad on the local website where every events were posted, from the last fishing contest, to music

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🔖 Labels : Un Homme Pressé, Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 57

Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 56

Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 56

losing yourself, a pin in a stack of herbs, rethink yourself, express it, dont try to please was the first thought he shared with his computer. He would think later how to bring it more into a diplomatic way. He knew Justin hated to feel rejected, and would rather fit with the flow. Still, the field he entered required a total dedication. And not complacent move, to stand for it, and to be able to bring it into further lights. They were to work together, writing some inspired thought along only ten pages, it gave the opportunity to go further some thoughts and deepen the line of the plot. 21 Set up The light from the room blinded his eyes several minutes before he could ever read what he wrote. Deeply asleep through his reading, Henri woke up through half the reading. His mind slipped somewhere else. Time to put a frame to the play, or more exactly, put it in frame. It was hanging there in his mind, bending on one side, the other side, he didnt have any clue about it. A quick play, still 5 acts, but what are ten pages for a play. First he had to transcript it on screen, this took him ten minutes. After, he went down to the kitchen and poured himself a nice whisky on the rocks, while the day still hadnt introduce itself, not even the green light of the sun through the horizon, only the light of the stars. Yet, it was the best time for him to write. He was deep asleep since late last night. He woke up early this morning with what he thought was an idea. He would never know. This latter escaped him and didnt come back, no notice. He had to work from scratch. His mind, quite dazzled by the artificial light and this early morning, went to drift on other shores. Still, this was a pleasant time, free and calm, he could surf through the world, vibrate with the emotions, unsettle through other inspirations. At 6.30AM, an idea crossed his mind at the reading of the play on screen. Silence was still the key knight of the morning, key player of the night. How to master silence? Silence is, he believed, the most effective leverage of an efficient acting, where emotions crosses human attitude to express the whole depth of a situation. Silence is key in a song of loud music. He reflected on the play and included several acting silence within the final draft. It had to be discussed with actors, actors who wanted to express on a scene, hence to express vocally. This balance would be hard to achieve, still it was the unlock to get the whole sensation of this unsettlement out, to get his idea over the scene to the seats of the audience. He overheard a door opening, some scratch on the floor, some bumps on the wall. He didnt dare to twist his moving physical conditions onto checking. He stayed there, half lying, half sitting, stared to the computer screen. *** 9AM. When Justin came back alive to what he called home, he crossed the path of Henri on the stairs. Both didnt speak, just nodding. He didnt feel right to introduce the fact of leaving the stack of papers to his flat mate. He thought to leave him time reading. So he moved, and continued to run his personal business as per usual. Business of a morning, coming back from a night out. Well not that exciting, working late, business dinner, and then, and then. Nothing great, everything calm on the surface of the sea. The kitchen was a mess, ball of papers lying on the floor, some daft representations of a building on one side, some drawings standing over the sink, and colors whose paint didnt have time yet to freeze the movement of the scene. He walk-juggled, and found his path to his shell. Coffee, oh my dear coffee. He poured milk and cereals in another bowl, and ate straight, and drank fast his coffee. Some thoughts crossed a mind he usually found peaceful in the morning. He

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🔖 Labels : Un Homme Pressé, Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 56

Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 55

Un Homme Pressé – Extrait 55

me after work around a drink. Mr. Henry I am keeping that in mind, many thanks. SCENE V Xavier and Mr. Henry are meeting in a bar in front of the business. Xavier Hiya, Mister Henry Mr. Henry Please call me Marc, I am no longer one of your customers. So tell me what do you see in this pub? Xavier Youre direct, here I dont know, Ive just arrived ten minutes ago. Have you seen that the clock at the bar has two minutes of advance with the one at the wall? Mr. Henry - No Xavier Look around, Can you see where the light is getting mixed to the light of the bar, yeah there, just at the entrance. Mr. Henry No. Xavier What do you see? Mr. Henry A useful organization of the tables, one waiter, one waitress, four tables, all rectangular, nine chairs and one bench. And well, five customers, including us Xavier Nothing more? Dont you see that one of the customer is crossing his legs, that he has two different socks, one green, one orange? That the girl over there is very nervous and cannot sustain a look anywhere here? Mr. Henry No, but one of the light at the ceiling is broken Xavier- Ok, we are coming from far, Do you want to understand you son? Tell me, twenty years ago, what were you doing? Mr. Henry In a pub like this, next to my university, discussing with friends and classmates and reinventing the world. Xavier And what happened? Mr. Henry I dont know, Work has started to take his load. Ive met my wife, we had a first child. My imagination went out, Ive started to have several ties and a cellphone, and no more desires to throw it all by the window. I must defragment, and you, what do you see else here? Xavier- The top of the lamp at the entry, moving slowly with the breeze given the door is opened, one cellphone that is vibrating, and illuminating the jacket of this person. There, one couple in becoming staring lovingly at each other. Legs are crossing. Eyes and smiles are light and wide. The second pin from the clock never stopping its run, and still this person being so nervous, crossing in and out her legs. And of course, this deficient light at the ceiling. Mr. Henry Ok, I might have forgotten and be too formatted Xavier - Take another glass, we are Friday, take a deep sip, and breath it away. Remember of the first time you were discovering things. Simplicity with no complexity. Marc smells his glass, then takes a sip. He puts back the glass on the table. Silence is empowering him. He lets his mind drifting along the music of the place, a jazz, his feet start to take the rhythm, he is swinging smoothly on his chair. He is more relaxed. His phone rings, He puts it on silence. After a moment, Xavier speaks Xavier See, how easy can life be? Feel that flow. Mr. Henry Well, yes, but a client called me. Xavier Let it go, it can wait Monday morning. Marc is breathing intensely. Justin told him he wrote this draft in literally 3 hours over the couch on a Sunday afternoon. Of course, it wasnt ready for the big screen, too much sensitive part an imbalance between the first scene and the remaining, Still, a certain maturity was lacking in the last three scenes, it looked like emotions took over Justin and he wrote simple but difficult and far from self-explanatory writings. The clock continued to tick, and in the play he read, it took him 10 minutes to be fair. He started to record comments, straight comments coming from the in vivo fire of the reading time. Maybe, Justin was trying to connect with the public via some general feelings he thought of. Maybe was he losing himself in a maelstrom of nonsense? Justin, remember, what was your first feeling about people? Stay open-minded, listen, we are as different as the number of faces in the photography of this crowd. Dont search for it, it s like

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