THE PRESS: LA REPUBBLICA
After a bit of avant-garde, we end up with cakes in the face
The lady suffers from insomnia, turns and turns in her petticoat clutching a pillow with bulbs incorporated on the aerial grate of a net without mattress suspended in the void above the heads of the spectators.
This is how Angiola Ianigro's "Teatroce" begins, a sort of tragicomic summary of bad dreams, fears, rigorously unmotivated anxieties, on the thread of free dissociation. In its first version staged last year, also at the Metateatro, the Teatroce was born almost like a bet, a great cauldron where Janigro had cooked together sound and visual materials brought by different authors and actors without a precise plan of show. In a "Helzapoppin" atmosphere, we went on mixing ingredients and quotes taken from comics, photo stories, Peter Handke, Ovidio, slides by Piero Della, Francesca and Matisse, disco music, passages and metropolitan landscapes crossed by Tibetan goats .
When heated, or rather cooled, the minestrone now appears very dried up and restricted. The taste is that of a parody even if the target does not always appear defined, and the desired frost is, as ambient temperature, only a little: "cold".
With a partner, Fernando Toma, from time to time executioner or victim, servant or master, Ianigro submits to numerous self-punishments and tortures: Feco, seems to want to suggest what happens to enter a celibate Machine or a torture chamber, as . that of experimental theater: it may happen that you advance by crawling on the pavement and pushing with your head across the hall a bundle of leoia, a tribute to Perlini or to poor art; swinging In nervous breakdown on a chair Suspended in the air; spray and boast the prodigious virtues of a very conceptual and packaged "fresh air" bottle like those of Piero Manzoni; perform in slightly amazonian transparent tunics; a bit like a vestal in homemade "bodyart" experiments by dipping the head of his partner all wrapped up in bandages and who no longer believes in the blue ". in a can of paint, in fact, blue.
To conclude with a swirl of cream cakes in the face according to the good manners of the final comedians. Theater of the absurd? No, nonsense of the theater. Theater of cruelty? Let's not misunderstand: cruelty of theater according to Angiola Janigro. The "visual interventions" were by Aldo Di Domenico while the complex scenography based on flying nets and steel cables was signed by Fernando Toma himself. The soundtrack by Paolo Modugno is well received. At the Metateatro R.S