Words by Tom Taylor

30 September 2016

Dear Victoria,

I saw your show, Les Femmes Sauvages de Dieu, last night at The Meat Market in North Melbourne. Afterwards, I went to talk about it with the security guard but he wanted to talk about Hillary and Donald. I tried then to tell my housemate but his eyes were snoozing. I’ll tell you instead.

Your performance was stunning. The three women you embodied were each captivating. The way you played with sound, with breathing, with movement, with presence, with masks, with gasps, with groaning was masterful. Without dialogue, you created worlds around these women that were lonely and painful and beautiful. In fact, the only parts of the show that felt less interesting were the words in the narrations

I wasn’t sure what to expect. Between the two of us, I am wary of titles in French. I was also wary as there were only five of us in the audience, with a dozen or so seats spare. I wonder what it was like coming out to see such a small audience? It didn’t seem to bother you. As buses and trucks occasionally roared past the venue, drawing us out of your performance, you drew us back in.

With your voice and with your instruments, you made sounds I have never heard before. The space was expansive and there was only one of you, but you filled it.

I know that my brother wouldn’t have liked the show. “I didn’t get it”, he would’ve said. I don’t know if I did either. I am not sure that I was able to link the narration to the pieces. I don’t think that matters much. I was carried through the stories that each of the women was telling. He also would’ve said that it was slow and asked me why you carried that glowing ball through each of the pieces. I am not sure except that there was continuum through each of the scenes and the piece moved at exactly the pace it needed to.

You deserve many full houses.

Warm Regards,

Tom Taylor