Barefoot, with intrigued eyes, the little ones head into the dark backstage of the Maison Théâtre and enter the stage, a restricted space where the set of G’zaagiin – I promise you a forest, this sensory piece they are about to discover. From there, the three musicians and actors welcome them to the sound of birds, an enveloping atmosphere, a cocoon sheltered from the world.
It is thus, well installed in the center of the decor, like the core of this story, that the children wait, on the lookout for all the noises, colors, gestures of the three artists who surround them. On one side, Emily Séguin, on the other Marie-Hélène Massy Emond, who have fun with drums and cellos, scratching, smelling, blowing on the instruments, as a way of appropriating the material, of becoming one with him. In turn, Emmanuel Cognée, man-orchestra, singer, noisemaker, and musician, recreates the sound of falling rain, manipulates various everyday objects, straw, bowl filled with water, to add to the nature effect offered by the cello and the drum. Thus emerge unusual sounds, grunts, cries, rhythms of course, laughter, which will make children smile, turning their heads from one side to the other. A show without words, but filled with amazing sounds, G’zaagiin — which means I love you in Anishinabémowin — is carried by artists from different backgrounds, which contributes to the unifying effect desired by the company Voyageurs immobiles. The carrier voice and the drum of Emily Séguin, of Anishinabe origin, thus rebound on those of the Abitibian and cellist Marie-Hélène Massy Emond and the Frenchman Emmanuel Cognée. The whole thing is supported by the Polish director, Milena Buziak. An interesting meeting, but is it enough?
Communion with nature
Beyond an enveloping staging, which allows the little ones to let themselves be rocked, marveled by the sounds, the music and the light which surround them, G’zaagiin remains somewhat simplistic, offering a not very elaborate scenography. At the top, the clouds overhanging the children, made of paper of different colors and installed in triangular wooden structures, light up and sway according to the elements. A pretty decor which is however not up to the height of this nature that we praise.
We understand the desire to offer an immersive experience in the theater, but this cry of love launched in the forest lacks poetry and warmth. We then spontaneously remember Mokatek and the vanished star — Ondinnok, 2018 — which offered a similar proposal on the scenic level, this idea of an enveloping cocoon, while going beyond the first degree. Here, everything is offered in a somewhat jerky, unnatural way, without us feeling this harmony, this desired exchange with nature. At the end of the thirty-minute show, the drum invites the children to beat time by beating their hearts, which ensures a touching finale, a communion that we would have liked to capture throughout the show.