New York actress Emily Blake opened a «pocket» theater in the 2nd that she baptised « La Solitude » (The Loneliness) to allow pennyless artists to get a little spotlight.
Rue du Mail, in the arched stone cellar of a private hôtel, nests the Théâtre de la Solitude. A 30 m2 room accessible by a small spiral staircase. The decor is sober: a tiny stage, covered by a wooden floor facing a few rows of folding chairs, lined on a red carpet floor. A few shelves collapse under the weight of books dedicated to the French theater. Two venitian masks. An antique map of Paris. And in the middle, the mistress of the place: Emily Blake, arriced five years ago, with her laugh and her New York accent. «It’s because of my father, a French history teacher in the US, that I was dreaming to discover your country. Me, I was doing street theater performance. But since Georges Bush is in charge, the minds gets poorer. Now, we only consider culture with a commercial eye. However, I am allergic to all that brings back the culture to the row of simple goods. And France is like me!» Fascinated by the french cultural exception and Jean Vilar, founder of the Avignon festival, who wished, with his Théâtre National Populaire, to make this art accessible to the more people, Emily Blake opened her own theater.
“I am allergic to all that brings back the culture to the row of simple goods.”
«I choose to call it “Solitude” because when we’re in that room, we have an impression of meditation, a feeling of protection. And that’s what an actor is looking for when he works on a play before showing it to an audience: to be alone with the work he is adapting in front of a group of people who are familiar for him.» Her theater is thus used as springboard to the desilvered artists. «I lend my theater for a modest sum, around 12 euros. Well, more or less. In fact, that depends so much on the meeting. I am unable to give a fixed price. It is necessary that this place serves the community.» Thus Emily Blake has, one evening of July, open gracefully her arched cellar to Philippe Dupagne, a homeless man met at the Bagagerie de Halles managed by the Mains Libres association. «I volunteer there every Monday evenings. I became acquainted with this poet there, author of a compilation of texts filled with hope on love, life, the street, the glance of others. We had invited the members of the association for a reading followed by a small sound festival of tablas, Indian percussions. It is a very beautiful memory… »
Contact: emilyblake@hotmail.com
