skull*cult
Dominique Frétard, Le Monde July 2002
In Avignon, young choreographers get caught by the spell of « Vif du sujet »
(…) As far as illusion and mystery go, elegant Christian Rizzo has made a name for himself with only a few heterogeneous pieces. His blacked-leather creature, the face entirely hidden behind a crash helmet, seems to have come off from a SM pic, but not in the sado-masochist style - and still, we may wonder - but rather in the simian-motorcycle fashion. The choreographer brings a mix of man and monkey into fashion, with an incursion into the beetle. Movement creeps in under the leather carapace. A curved shape recalls a launching pad. The bonsai on the proscenium proves that the creature comes from the mists of the time. Or is it from the 70s? We hear the Mamas and the Papas in California Dreamin’ and Schneider TM cover The Smiths. Of course, we just pretend to be scared in front of this skull cult. The man who blindly trusts Christian Rizzo is called Rachid Ouramdane. (…)
Marie-Christine Vernay, Libération July 2002
O solo mio ! « Le Vif du sujet », four pieces commanded by dancers.
(…) Ouramdane in crash helmet. Coming from the National Centre for Contemporary Dance (CNDC) in Angers, Rachid Ouramdane is both a performer and a choreographer. On a stage that has been turned into a freeway exit, the dancer appears with his back to us, as a black-leathered motorcyclist, clad with overalls and helmet. He can move only with difficulty and parsimony. His dance is sometimes jerky and sometimes carried along, swaying his hips and chest. Reminding a big tortoise turned upside down and unable to get back on its feet, the dancer has to lean upon the top of his helmet to get up. He is hurt, he waves, but nobody comes to rescue him. The music vibrates, industrial. This crash helmet curiosity was conceived by the dancer, musician and choreographer Christian Rizzo. (…)
Muriel Steinmetz, L’Humanité July 2002
“Le vif du sujet” goes out of its way for us
Christian Rizzo and Rachid Ouramdane take “Vif du sujet” (“The Heart of the Matter”) with the wrong foot, and provocatively divert the expectations of a manifestation that takes place right in the sun. This is something Héla Fattoumi, the organiser of the event, must enjoy. If the performer is more than ever in the place of honour since he is the one who selects his choreographer, he nevertheless remains hidden, with Skull*Cult, dressed up from top to toe. A motorcycle outfit covers Rachid Ouramdane’s limbs and also his head, hidden behind the double protection of a crash helmet and an opaque black fabric. On top of it all, he dances with his back to us, at the far end of the stage, swaying slowly, his hand touching a leg that seems to be sore. He looks like a road casualty, bending over his envelope, standing on the other side from the footlights. He moves vaguely, turns a somersault, then shivers all over before reducing his movements to a minimum, suddenly turning morose. There is a bonsai on the front stage - a dwarf tree for a slim dancing. Right in the middle of the performance, the music starts (partly composed by Thomas Brinkmann), without any motif, and becomes louder for no apparent reason. Anyone can draw his or her associations from these few tools, i.e. a faceless dancer almost still.
We can feel how hot is his body under the leather. As always with his dancing, gestures spread over his anatomy, just as you stir water with a pebble. Following the example of the bonsai, this choreography is doctored at the roots, and can be summed up by the feeling it creates
(…).
