On tour: Romeo Castellucci in Brussels and Circostrada in Rouen

And here they are…in the bar…after the last show at Kanal Center Pompidou in Brussels. Gilda Biasini, Sedrick Amisi Matala, Abdoulay Djire, Siegfried Eyidi Dikongo, Pape Mamadou Gning, Olivier Kalambayi Mutshita, Filippo Ferraresi, Trine Heller and some other cool people. Stars, all of them.


Oh, I hear a motor running!
Do you know the parable of the capsized car?
The overturned roof is the decorative art’s rebellion against free art.
The people rolling the car are artisans, tired of working
without enjoying the fruits of their work.
The capsized car is the kind of art that, even with its motor running, doesn’t go anywhere.
The running motor is the motor of the days that keep moving along, one after another.
The overturned wheels are the celestial paths towards which earthly objects are turned.
The noise of the motor is the voice of things and events awaiting their liberation.
The great redemption of decoration.
The great breakaway from conformism.
This is how artisans stop artists.

Claudia Castellucci


In Brussels to see Romeo Castellucci’s new piece La via nuova.
It is the last performance in Brussels. From Brussels it is going on tour and the atmosphere with the staff and the artists was as always very friendly.

The day after I went to Rouen with the fast train from Brussels to Paris. I found my reserved seat in wagon 15. I noticed a small briefcase next to my seat but noone was there. It bothered me. I could not concentrate and noone came for the bag. Finally I decided to look in the bag. It must have been someone’s who got off in Brussels.

In the bag I found a passport, a mobilephone with a charger, house keys, money and ID-papers. It was a Maroccoan passport from a guy born in 1992 but he was apparantly living in Holland. There was also a notebook but it was empty. I was thinking of the poor guy. It would have cost him a fortune if all this should be renewed. I could not find any thing with his adress on or an email-adress. The mobilephone did not ring either, perhaps he had not noticed that he had lost his bag. Should I take the bag with me when I leave the train or should I hand it over to the staff or simply just leave it there? I was thinking perhaps he was very ill and distracted since he could forget his bag. The passport was full of stamps. It would be almost impossible for him to get a new one, I guessed.

The train approached Gare du Nord in Paris. A cleaning girl passed through the train and I decided I would give the bag to her. When I explained the situation to her a young man from further back in the train suddently stepped forward. He had the most charming and warm smile and I gave him the bag.

ROUEN: For sure Gustave Flaubert looks like David Crosby.

In the afternoon I went to the Medcin and Gustave Flaubert Museum. The ideal combination. Made me think of Adalbert Stifter and the begining of “Der Nachsommer” where everything is beeing put in montres.

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