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FOR GODS ONLY #SACRE 3 
Solo pour Marie-Agnès Gillot 

Creation and design
Olivier Dubois

Creative assistant
Cyril Accorsi Performer
Marie-Agnès Gillot

Music
The Rite of Spring of Stravinsky and François Caffenne

Lighting design
Emmanuel Gary

Costume design
Morgane Tschiember

Technical Director
François Michaudel

Note of intent

Becoming a legend,
It means being robbed of one’s tomorrow, one’s farewell, one’s disappearance
It means being dispossessed of one’s destiny
It means becoming a museum of yourself. A gallery of a permanent collection of your life’s work
It’s a coma of the living !
It’s the stillness of life without death, it’s being eternally gone.
I see Diana the Huntress without game, I see Marilyn without a dress, Callas without a voice, a samurai without the honour of combat
It’s a star that shines, simply because the one looking at it knows only one thing about it, that it’s a star… and that’s enough!
From star to black hole, a story of time!
No longer climbing, no longer falling, no longer shouting, no longer moaning, no longer laughing… To be legendary as if dead!
There is no change in it, no shadow of variation. She is not a process in the making. It is an eternal, fixed being… with no succession, no descendants.
It is a mythological beast that we venerate and that tells the story of our times.
Through our legends, we are once again creating a mythological corpus… Perhaps because we still need to give meaning to our History, like the reassuring landmarks of our contemporary civilisations.
By freezing new idols in time, we pace our time, immortalising those who eternally embody our memories, our fantasies and our desires for the infinite.
Perhaps it’s the unconscious fighting against our own mortality, and even worse, that of our species.
Divin(e), too divine(s)
And then..,
I imagine Marie-Agnès as a samurai, seated. She waits, we watch her
All around them, heads, laid down, impaled. Trophies of her battles, museum of our modern gods?
She dances,
She dances her Sacre, the sacrifice of life for the eyes of the world, so that they can finally look their disappearing worlds in the face!
And then perhaps some sweetness, some Ambrosia, that wild honey, food of the gods…

Olivier Dubois