L’Edition Francaise

The “living, breathing, work of art” creates a living, breath French arte film that delighted the senses, boggled the mind, and evoked laughter, tears, and more than one arousal.

Anyone who has read my blog knows that I am a Lily Verlaine fan-boy, and last night’s show at The Triple Door gives me another chance to profess my love and admiration for this artistic goddess and her work.

In celebration of Bastille Day, Lily brought to her audience a series of risqué, comedic and beautiful dance pieces performed to the works of a number of smoky French voices. On the whole it was different. It was beautiful. It was risky.

It is always a risk when you do something different. When people go to a Lily Verlaine show they expect to see beautiful girls, and handsome boys, dancing and taking their clothes gracefully, and dare I say tastefully. Lily is a master of gently pushing her audience, teasing, pulling back and teasing again, without pushing so hard as to turn her audiences off. L’Edition Francaise is no exception to this expectation, but it goes beyond that. It pushes the audience in a way I have never experienced, forcing them to immerse themselves completely in the sensations or risk getting lost in the subtly of the artistic statements, the blinding collage of stimulation, and persistent language barrier. It forces the audience to think like the French, and not like Americans. Risky.

I cannot speak for the entire audience but for this viewer the experience was amazing. Letting go of my own thoughts and preconceptions, allowing myself to sink into the story that I could only partially understand was a refreshing exercise in surrender. However, I am at a loss to describe why this show affected me like it did. Perhaps it is something that cannot be explained, but only experienced. Or perhaps the sensation of being forced out of my Ameri-centric thought patterns was more than my brain could handle and still leave room for rational thought. Whatever the case, it is truly a shame that this was a onetime event.

From the tricycle pedaling mime pick-up artiste, a lip syncing ensemble, to a cute as a button baby shark, spirited go-go dancers, and a Pilobolus-esque town car, to handsome men with cigarettes in hand, beautiful girls sunbathing, and a beautifully choreographed gang-bang (how French), to a fantastic pas de deux between Paris Original and Kylie Shea, and a sensational finale that left me speechless and on the brink of tears (and my date thoroughly confused), Lily Verlaine’s Night Cap L’Edition Francaise was without a doubt something I will remember for a long time. Brava divas!

Love ~ Fosse Jack