“Le festival des Marionnettes arrive”.
Marionnette… Musical words tend to linger. Memories start to materialise, but then bleed into the next. Some fleeting and nebulous; the trancing Truly Scrumptious, hoodwinking the Baron as a wind-up doll in a music box… Or the Von Trapp family puppet show, “high on the hill was a lonely goatherd…”. Others hitting home; Eugene Lambert and Judge the Dog back in Monkstown, “Wasn’t that “Marionnette”?.
Why these specific memories? Why not the countless puppet shows I performed during childhood? The particularities, I learned, were not unfounded.
Marionnette is of Middle Age origin when dolls were used to perform biblical stories – therefore almost always involving the Virgin Mary. Literally “Marie” for Mary and “ette”, the French adjunct to convey petiteness (similar to our Séainín). The Marionette tends to be more human-like than its ragged puppet cousin. The nuanced fingerwork of the strings like an ethereal command to the delicately chiselled, angelic figurines.
Normandy’s festival is run by an organisation known as CRéAM (Cente Régional des Arts de la Marionnette), founded in 1986. They perform from the 12-15 July over a condensed 4 days of theatre. The artists’ lodging is located in Dives sur Mer, in which many of the artists reside year-round. Within that building they practice for their annual festival, and occasionally host workshops with local childrens’ schools. Because the phenomenon sprang from the Middle Ages, “Marionette” often carries outdated connotations, but the Marionette today (insists their website) encompasses a myriad of transciplinaries and hybrids, so vast and diverse that it warrants the umbrella-term, “des Arts de la Marionnette”.
It seems that there is something in it for the whole family, but does it really follow through?
I would have felt twee and overwrought with my borrowed bicyclette were it not such a typical sight – all around the village were high-handled, basketed bikes, so I received no enquiring stares. On my way between shows I was stopped by a small mob shrouded in Marionette gear. CRéAM brought the show to the streets, teasing children and frightening adults. The fusion of show and city was quite remarkable. CRéAM teamed up with local businesses and set up a scavenger hunt by placing Marionette dolls inside window displays. Children were supplied a sheet and if they named the shops in which certain Marionettes could be found, they were awarded a prize.
A gang of bikers also revved about all week on motorbikes. They had a hard edge and I was frightened of them, despite hugging dolls so snugly to their chests.
Some shows were provided free of charge en plein air – mindful of sullen children. L’Évadée (The Escape) was based on a classic cat-mouse dynamic, but in this instance it was cat-caterpillar. Performed by a dextrous mimic with an unorthodox gift – evoking interest, fear, or excitement by means of pitchy and emotive humming. Muted and wordless as the mumbles of Mr Bean.
The highlight was a four-part evening show with fireworks for only €20, La Soirée Fenêtre sur Courts:
Cake et Madeleine – A family’s journey through time. And how to convey such a story? Madeleines of course. A tribute to the nearby city of Cabourg, Proust’s favourite holiday spot.
Les Geometries du Dialogue – A couple masked in blackboard boxes chalk on “faces”, rotating the boxes accordingly to display their ever-changing sea of patterns.
L’Os – A woman and her puppet are the best of friends, spending quality time on an armchair. Live ventriloquism always dazzles – in person it never seems quite real.
La Petite Conférence Manipulée – A talk on the history of Marionnette in conversational style by a performer with a warm and affable disposition.
Between shows the audience received complementary borrowers’-sized helpings of fruit compote with wine or apple juice. Down to the last detail to ensure optimum pleasure, as per français.
A HQ was set up in a reformed primary school. Rebelling against its staid roots in summertime into dome of art paraphernalia; tiny flimsy birdcages dangling like windchimes, oversized polaroids plonked on walls like post-its notes, beds even, to bask in the July swelt. A bike-stand free of charge and very reasonably priced refreshments (coffee, crisps, and wine each around a euro).
An environmentally conscious organisation – an extra €2 was charged for a plastic cup, whose inscription urges you not to throw it away.
When I noticed an integration of disabled people in the montage of photography on the walls, it struck me as stark within the national context. France’s collective mentality is fairly outdated when it comes to disability. We needn’t but remind ourselves of the conversations that sprang from Michel Houellebecq’s Atomised, a critique on the new and improved “liberal” French society. As recently as 2012, England’s French consul Edouard Braine stated on public radio that the UK was between 35-50 years ahead of France in terms of societal acceptance of disabled people. As well as this, they hold some of Europe’s highest termination rates after prenatal diagnosis of a deformity. I also saw quite a few audience members with a disability, which was uplifting.
Panel discussions were also free of charge. The artists weighed in on the process of their puppetized take on Fairytales. They integrated feminism and sexuality candidly into conversation, unfazed by the presence of younger children. As per francais – never squirmy or self-conscious over subjects considered weighty by Irish standards.
The entire festival was a very unique experience. So if you find yourself in Normandy in July, pay it a visit. But keep it casual, lest you’ll chip the guise of the most coveted french characteristic of blasé.
