Novarina:Der Mensch ausser sich

A man appears, calls eight hundred and twenty-seven pairs of silent eyes, listens to the grasses, speaks to the rocks. He asks five questions, sings seven songs, throws four pebbles into the air, which no longer fall down. He writes words in the air and talks to God without knowing whether he exists. At a cattle market, the drama worker calls out one thousand five hundred and sixty nicknames of mountain people and says everything they do. Valère Novarina is to the French language what quantum physics is to science. His way of hollowing out the ground of words, redirecting sentences, setting thought free, creates a musicality of language that opens up the senses and opens up unforeseeable perspectives. Always surprising because it is always inventive, at once irrepressible and full of tragedy, metaphysical and burlesque.