It is to a charming, poetic, sometimes spectacular and a little too talkative show that The 7 Fingers suits us with My island, my hearta love letter to Montreal presented in the brand new Studio-Cabaret at Espace St-Denis.
Posted at 1:24 p.m.
By dint of having our noses glued to it, we tend to see only the bad sides of Montreal. Through the lens of the 7 Fingers, and its acrobats who have adopted the city at one time or another in their lives – “Who doesn’t remember their first arrival? “, asks the master of ceremonies Didier Lucien at the start of the show – the city finds itself joyfully magnified, exultant and vibrant, never far from postcard clichés, but very close to the life that beats there.
The troop of 7 fingers inaugurates the new hypermodern multifunctional room which replaces the obsolete St-Denis 1 by investing it in all its corners. The acrobats climb on the tables, circulate in the aisles of the cabaret, a small circular stage is installed in the center and images are projected on all the walls, even in front of the balcony, to create an immersive environment in the different scenes.
My island, my heart tells the story of Pablo (Pablo Pramparo), freshly arrived in Montreal for love. It’s a pretext to explore the city, its alleys and its cafes, its wintry “frette”, its ugly spring and its scorching heat, its parties cuisine and its festivals, in a series of scenes that are not always equal.
PHOTO ALEXANDRE GALLiez, PROVIDED BY LES 7 DOIGTS
The master of ceremonies, Didier Lucien, and the couple of lovebirds formed by Pablo Pramparo and Marie-Christine Fournier
The show begins slowly, around a staircase of course, and despite its poetry – pretty snow falling in a bluish light – it takes time to take off. The setting up provided by the master of ceremonies is too long, later his walk along the “Main” too, and are a hindrance for the first numbers, which are pretty and well choreographed, but which above all highlight the group cohesion.
We have to wait for the trapeze duo of Marie-Christine Fournier and Louis-David Simoneau to have a first breathtaking circus number, then aerial fabric on Famous Blue Raincoat by Leonard Cohen, interpreted by Natasha Patterson, to experience our first real thrills. Sure, My island, my heart looks more like a cabaret show: the music played by the acrobats adds to the atmosphere, and the scene of the French lesson from the text of the answering machine roommates is fun. However, what we hope for from the 7 Fingers is still original and high-flying circus.
And we have a lot in the second part, after a frankly uninteresting intro: the master of ceremonies who summarizes the story, as if we hadn’t understood, a bad habit of the 7 fingers to add narration where it is not necessary. Fortunately, the troupe has also relied on its greatest strength since its founding nearly 20 years ago: the group numbers, dynamic and hyperactive, during which the soloists shine among their own.
The Chinese mast number in the subway, with the magnetic and significant presence of veteran William Underwood, who was part of the mythical show tracks, sets the tone. When the eight members of the troupe find themselves on the same bike in an alley, we also recognize the playful spirit of the 7 fingers, whose other particularity is to let themselves be inspired by the personalities and stories of their acrobats. It’s when everyone recounts their encounter with Montreal that the show takes on its full meaning.
“It was here that I understood that anything could be possible,” says Marilou Verschelden, who had just arrived from her native Abitibi: she then proves it to us in an incredibly powerful German wheel act. For Brin Schoellkopf, Montreal was the place where her gender identity emerged. Her wire number, sort of coming out to techno music, during which he literally dances then is supported by the whole troupe, is one of the most moving things we have seen in a circus show, a perfect balance between performance and emotion.
Of course, Pablo will be dumped, but will decide to stay anyway. My island, my heart thus reminds us that beyond the orange cones, a city is first and foremost made up of the links between the people who live in it, the love they have for it and the life they breathe into it. And if the declaration of love is sometimes clumsy and overplayed, its sincerity is irresistible.
My island, my heartat the Studio-Cabaret of Espace St-Denis until October 16
My island, my heart
Espace St-DenisUntil October 16