Liliane Atlan's monologue is an interior cantata, a heartbreaking and luminous word. It is a complaint, intimate, spiritual, philosophical, that of our inner world. That of romantic chaos, of crass solitude, of the obligation to get up from everything.

The choice of a voice-guitar duo immediately became obvious. A guitar with a minimalist style, a simple, classic electric sound with its binary rhythm with psychedelic scents, piercing crystal, echo of this inner voice, inaudible, on the verge of aphasia. Music supports, consoles, embraces the uproar, the suspense, the distractions, the rage but also the clarifications. She embodies this word.

She gradually accompanies his conflagration, she imperceptibly follows in his footsteps, with the same fragility as the first words, an almost timid line which will then swell into a long crescendo, gradually building its march, structuring its momentum through rhythm, notes building on notes like light on light.

In tune, Palomar Paradise follows the chaotic journey of the thoughts of Liliane Atlan, a wounded, lucid soul, never resigned.

Liliane Atlan
1932-2011

Liliane Atlan was a searcher for sparks because she was, like all idealists, thirsty for the absolute.

His poetry flows with sacred images, regret for the divine, a thirst for the absolute. Each verse of Elementary Love represents a lyrical, powerful, evocative, passionate struggle.

“I would like poetry to be first of all an incessant battle, a theater where being and essence, form and the non-formal fight each other hard,” wrote Yves Bonnefoy. With Liliane Atlan, her syntax, sometimes broken, becomes brutal, sharp. Sound and visual radiance reverberate, creating a feeling of dizziness. Her impulses dominate her. Vibrant, they follow, in a jerky rhythm, the interior harmonics. An inner, musical and spatial voice. In his verses biblical accents resonate, his voice, ample, solemn, interspersed by the elements, is inhabited by a musicality which absorbs silences and cacophonies, bewitching with its sensuality, and its anguish of death.

There is carnage in this text. A world neither majestic nor peaceful, but rather filthy, cruel, sharp. An eye contemplates, comes alive with rage, cuts, raw. An aggressive eye sometimes. Its rays hurt, reducing everything to rubble. Like a knife, the eye penetrates into matter, into clarity and fights tirelessly.

Like Beckett, Liliane Atlan suffers from metaphysical anxiety. The more she explores herself through her art, the more her confrontations, personal and collective, are painful but salutary. It approaches what the Kabbalists call “The mystical point”, this beginning from which Creation emanates. She takes this disturbing journey through the chaotic layers of the self to the end.

TERMS

AUDIENCE All audiences, recommended from 12 years old

DURATION

Liliane Atlan

Eric Dal Molin