Mes jours et mes nuits

Michèle Noiret now occupies the left part of the stage. On a slightly raised platform she moves spiderlike over the floor, spreading, stretching, crossing her limbs with an overwhelming mastery and never-failing pliability. When she finally rises she seems on the verge of toppling over, teetering on tiptoe, clutching at the emptiness to find her balance. At once frail and strong, she controls her body's slightest oscillation while seeming to dwell in a permanent state of unbalance.

Behind her another screen mixes shadows, live and prerecorded images. The soundtrack seems to emanate from everywhere at once, as an elaborate network of captors and microcontacts provides a direct link between her movements and the sounds. Each movement produces a computer-generated sound. Noiret creates her own personal music, her own personal world of sound directly inspired by a poem by her father, Joseph Noiret.

Her body, lying flat on the floor, is abruptly jolted as if electrified, twists, slides towards the edge, disappears under the screen. After a few more slight contortions on the screen, darkness swallows everything. And the members of the audience shake themselves as they step out of a strange journey like a waking dream, abstract although exclusively produced by a moving body's presence.”