“This text was composed during the First World War in Rio de Janeiro” he recalls. Paul Claudel, an ambassador at the time, viewed the surrounding luxuriant nature to be hostile in the divine plan. He was taking stock of his life at fifty, mulling over the bitter and the sweet while revisiting his fundamentals: his conversion, the revelation of Rimbaud, the failure of his monastic vocation, the failure of his encounter with the “rose” on the boat to China, the abandonment of the child he fathered adulterously, the consent to marriage “over there” and to “these children I had in my dreams”. But there is always the call of the sea, flight, exile and solitude . The quest for an absolute between the poetic work and the Christian incarnation of the soul. His bitterness found solace in a love binding him to God, an exhortation to the celebration of the mass, which is his way of reaching God, an exaltation of the Eucharist, experienced in its intimate destitution and as a carnal, cannibal, almost orgiastic union, as well as in the droll and disenchanted verve of the gaze he brings to bear on his fellow men. A ritual to contain the inner disorder, a congestive, exacerbated Catholicism to ward off inner defeat, the temptation of “ending everything”. A soul in crisis, calling upon a silent God, discussing “man to man” with this Father who sends men to sacrifice (he was writing in 1917).
For me, this is not about subscribing to a profession of faith, but to a poetic and theatrical work that identifies with the line in Saint John’s Gospel: “In the beginning was the Word”.

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23 JAN

THE THEATRICAL PRACTICE OF THE SOLO is relatively new to the Comédie-Française. Ever since the seventeenth century, the institution has defined itself first as a troupe of actors whose collective identity predominates over the expression of individualities. From as early as 1674 this quality was pointed out by Samuel Chappuzeau in his Théâtre Francois, when he compared theatre troupes to political “bodies” that functioned as so many small “Republics”. Commenting on actors, he wrote that “they admit no superiors, the name alone offends them; they all wish to be equal, and call each other comrades”. The motto of the Comédie-Française, Simul et Singulis (be together and be oneself), which appeared in 1682 along with the emblem of the buzzing hive, characterises this philosophy in which each contributes, though his or her own talent, to the collective work.

No solos... only soloists

While the practice of performing alone on stage is not considered a fitting pursuit, the “solo” form of the monologue is highly appreciated by the public, and sometimes staged to showcase the protagonist in all his or her splendour and in contrast with the rest of the troupe. This is an effect of the star system that clearly emerged in the nineteenth century.
Soloist practices most often developed outside of the theatre’s activity. Some actors embarked on personal tours that were sometimes scheduled without regard for the interests of the Comédie-Française –Talma or Rachel were capable of taking off while leaving their comrades in difficulty. They would travel with trunks full of costumes but recruit fill-in actors and find makeshift sets on the spot to perform the great scenes of their repertoire. The performance then resembled a recital of choice excerpts, selected to showcase the actor whose talent was all the more strongly emphasised given that he or she was performing alongside second-class actors if not to say amateurs.
The monologue per se developed at the end of the nineteenth century, thanks to the Coquelin brothers, but today remains an exception. The motto Simul et Singulis, perfectly sums up the indispensable paradox for any actor who is the member of a Troupe.

• Visual : Hive, engraving by Guillaumot fils

Concept and interpretation: Didier Sandre
Lighting: Bertrand Couderc
Original music: Othman Louati
Artistic collaboration: Éric Ruf