With "Una foresta", created for the Venice Biennale 2022, Olmo Missaglia and his team weave a narrative between autofiction and pop culture, absurdity and poetry, to reclaim the ability to dream, by inhabiting a world with a precarious present and future.
What do you want to be when you grow up? How many times did we hear that question? So many that we actually believed that whatever we wanted was achievable. That all you had to do was reach out into a world of possibility. We grew up like that, thinking we were special. Convinced that dreams were the same as wishes. That our fantasies would become reality. Then, eventually, we did grow up. And found ourselves lost, as if in the middle of a forest. In a world we didn’t recognise, having lost our bearings. With a slight feeling of betrayal. And though at times we felt we knew what we were up against, we didn’t really know what new claims we had to make. We thrived, by surviving. But all this trying to stay afloat left us feeling nauseous.
I was born in the Nineties, 1991 to be precise. Like many other young adults, I grew up on a borderline: too close to the old ideologies to reject them, yet not naive enough to truly believe in them. We were “digital” in this supercilious way because we weren’t completely virtualized. We were weaned on the formula of a society that was on the verge of exploding, but still on its feet. We were disillusioned, but still made in the USA. As Miley Cyrus (born in 1992) would say: Plastic hearts. And yet we learned to live with inconsistency, to navigate being off-balance and accept our present, caught between a past that didn’t want to die and a future that not only struggles to be born, but we struggle even to imagine. Our world seems the only one possible; and so pervasive is it that we can feel it in our guts, anaesthetising our dreams, which simply became too real. What to do with this imaginative paralysis?
Una foresta is a lysergic-existential attempt to lose ourselves in order to invent a new direction, to reclaim the ability to dream, to feed on the chaos of our world.
In French, Italian and Japanese, surtitles in French and Dutch.
From 14 years old.
Interpretation et co-writing Michele de Luca, Mizuki Kondo, Romain Pigneul, Eva Zingaro Meyer/Léa Chanteau
A project by Olmo Missaglia
Dramaturgy and artistic collaboration Médéa Anselin
Stage design Justine Bougerol
Light Sibylle Cabello
Stage manager Yorrick Detroy
Painting Veronica De Giovanelli (printing of a detail of The remains of an archipelago, 2017)
A production of La Biennale di Venezia | Project support Stefano Ricci et Gianni Forte | With the support of MoDul/bolognaprocess asbl, Théâtre Les Tanneurs, Le BAMP, Centre Culturel Wolubilis, COCOF aide à la promotion à l’étranger.
Photo : Courtesy La Biennale di Venezia © Andrea Avezzù
En résulte "Une forêt" dont les ombrages irrévérencieux se nimbent de poésie et d’un humour oscillant entre le pince-sans-rire et le grand guignol.
Marie Baudet, La Libre Belgique
27 June 2022
Un portrait générationnel surréaliste et désolant, qui laisse néanmoins des ouvertures pour l’espoir.
Alberto Ojeda, El Español
Un spectacle inquiet dans l’hyperactive apathie qui caractérise l’aujourd’hui.
Maria Dolores Pesce, Rumorscena
01 July 2022