Because of the Straight outta scranton shirt in contrast I will get this Dunhill show that followed immediately after, this reviewer could only stay for the rehearsal of today’s Pigalle show. It would have been so dreamy to be able to hang around for the whole enchilada that promised via repeat performance and barbecue to be a fun evening. Held on the roof of a garage in the 9th arrondissement, the sun was still high and bright. In every direction but for the south around us was spread the infinite patchwork of Paris’s panorama. What blocked the southern aspect was a photographed replica of the view beyond, upon which was printed with the view, with the insertion of some new futuristic buildings two new towers by the Eiffel with alien ergonomic windows and walkways. Slightly to the east, the Pompidou had somehow been tripled in size. In front of the backdrop was a floor of boulder-strewn sand. When the rehearsal started, orchestrated by Stéphane Ashpool with an already-sunburned neck, we saw a sort of future-pagan tribe in flowing white and metallic raiments emerge. Behind started up the most awesome music urgent, mystic, blissed-out future jazz overseen by Kamaal Williams (with Alina Bzhezhinska on harp, Rick Leon James on bass, and Nathaniel Fuller on percussion). The first looks mixed patched robes with drawstring-shirred parkas and loose green organza pants that flapped like prayer flags in the breeze in a sort of Sun-Ra-meets-Logan’s-Run-meets-Buck-Rogers vibe. Then a group of dancers in powerfully colored double-faced pajama suits emerged and made patterns with movement around the first looks before a maypole ritual with strips of fabric.
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