In Artists, Hautvoir, Local projects, Music, proto drafts, Sanford Meisner on January 30, 2016 at 10:19 am

Of the four, he’s the least “mature” in his reactions. By which I mean the least equipped to anticipate the consequences of his actions, and adjust his behavior accordingly. I don’t know much of his life story – I’m not an official of any kind. People tell me what they wish to share and no more. Sometimes, the story they tell evolves over time. Reversals appear. More often, they reveal details they didn’t wish to share. Sometimes, those details make all the difference in terms of potential outcomes.

The details surface either because their disclosure becomes inevitable, or because the person is running out of bargaining chips. Said bargaining has a desperate quality to it. The odds favor the house. This is a given.

I wish I could find the lyrics to one of the songs performed last night by a group called Des fourmis dans les mains. In it, a boy questions his father who answers no to every query. As well he must. No, he says, smoke from factory stacks doesn’t create the clouds. Boats don’t create the waves. And so on until the father asks his son: “you’re twelve now, aren’t you?” The boy answers: no, I’ll turn thirteen in a week. In that case, yes, my son, yes the father answers to everything that came before.

Prior to their performance in Rabastens last night, Imbert Imbert sang one of his compositions based on a sentence he read in a novel by Amin Malouf. The exact words, I don’t recall. But they spoke of nurturing the courage to dream on.

One way or another, for sure.


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