Catholics protested in front of theatres during performances of a particular play. They too want a taste of the demonstration, this hot contemporary communal variation of the 1990s and 2000s performance, that in turn evolved out of the 1960s and 1970s happening.
Antwerp: http://www.deredactie.be/permalink/1.1210979
Paris: http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=O0U89b76lsQ
The small demonstration in Antwerp particularly had the quality of a historical re-enactment. Held in front of your local theatre, apart from publicity this also led to some elements of beauty:
- The banners and style attributes (student hats,..) carried as a trace of a discours that seems very old and hidden, forgotten even by its messengers, like relics in a procession.
- A woman that proclaims our good Lord as her great love in front of the camera.
- Because of a smell in the airco, firemen invading the theatre (the movement of their bodies and the fluorescent yellow of their security vests contrasting beautifully with the red carpets and mute aesthetical inwards of the theatre building).
- The art director seizing the delay to stay unintimidates till late at night.
- The spectators seizing an opportunity to meet each other, chat away several hours and still enjoy a good play, apparently.
Unfortunately the geographical meeting of two groups with apparently different rituals and ideas didn't make any sort of exchange or transgression happened. Except of course showing yourself physically is already a form of communication.
This kind of non-meetings helps preserve the colorful differences that each cherishes inside his own discourse. It was probably favored by the technical deficiency that delayed the play with several hours but also by the stance organised by the art director.
The media too favors non-meetings to extract colorful differences and moving images from that for commercial reasons are sterilized to prevent any further discours outside itself.
The religious demonstration: who would have thought of that. Let us find more ways of kicking the ball wrong in as diametrical a way as possible. I remain chained to a mint tea in a local Moroccan tea house (against vegetable suffering) while friends of mine are playing with the idea of delivering a pamflet on the grave of Shakespeare in reaction to his abuse of the letter 'o'.
