The new acrobatic piece from Cirque Éloize was finally presented in Montreal (for four performances), almost a year and a half after its creation in the Îles-de-la-Madeleine. A show carried by the Madelinot storyteller Cédric Landry and the three musicians of the trad group Suroît.
This return to its roots is a nice nod for the company which is celebrating its 30th anniversary and which recently transformed the old church of Havre-Aubert des Îles-de-la-Madeleine into a performance hall.
It’s difficult to compare this new version directed by Félix Dagenais with the original version created in the summer of 2022 by Michel-Maxime Legault – since we haven’t seen it! – but what we can tell you is that the storyteller Cédric Landry plays a central role. In fact, he is the salt of Between Sky and Sea.
His tales, anecdotes and other asides are delivered with charm, charisma, kindness and a disarming naturalness, which elevate this eminently musical show. Because let’s be honest, the acrobatic part, quite classic, does not reinvent anything.
With his very attractive little Acadian accent, Cédric Landry takes the time to “marinate” us, that is to say to “accustom” us to the culture of his archipelago.
His uncle Roger, he said, would never have made the trip to Montreal, “because he doesn’t know half the world there…” A text that he obviously had to adapt according to the place of representation…
Little by little, the storyteller unpacks his stories for us in the pure tradition of these imaginary oral tales, and he tells some very good ones, full of wit and tenderness, supported by the three musicians of the trad group – on the violin, on the mandolin or guitar, in a refined setting with a backdrop that changes color.
Special mentions for its history of the construction – three times – of a village church; and also this love story between Claire and Louis, separated from the Islands for a time until their reunion… in Verdun. Tasty tales, where our boat captain uses words with disconcerting efficiency and simplicity.
Cédric Landry pushes the note of the story even in the execution of the circus acts – which he often accompanies. These issues, as we said, are quite classic in style, and serve in some way to illustrate his stories. In a way that is sometimes a little too literal.
If he talks about a storm, we hear the sound of the wind, if he mentions a boat, we hear a naval horn; when it comes to the construction of the village church, acrobats climb to the top of a Chinese pole; when we celebrate the marriage of two lovers, the bride will do an airy fabric number draped… in a white sheet.
In short, the links are obvious, there is no possible error, but they are so obvious that there is no longer any possible evocation for the spectator, this magical power which allows us to make our own movie. Instead, even if we understand the director’s desire to put us in the mood, we hardly have the impression of seeing the same words highlighted with double dashes.
We still appreciated the gentle Cyr wheel number by Cléa Périon (with the very beautiful text about time), as well as the perilous aerial numbers – with the hoop and the fabric – by Florence Amar.
But once again, it is Cédric Landry, through his great sensitivity – with the story of this dying father who is about to pass to the other side of the horizon line, between sky and sea, which touches us and which gives depth to a show which otherwise would have seemed like a simple cabaret.