Une femme chaque nuit voyage en grand secret

“The room is white like a frozen winter, shiny like a salt desert. Here, the air is of a whiteness so great it seems that the walls could vanish at any moment. Here, each blow leaves its mark, each sob sketches the horizon. 

Running so fast, just to hear the wind laugh.”

Bouvier/Obadia 

“Few choreographers have stated with such force as Bouvier / Obadia, and solely by dance, the tragic fatality of the passion that shackles human beings. Une femme chaque nuit voyage en grand secret is no exception, in which, relentlessly, for one hour, three boys and three girls confront each other, possessed, torn apart, mad with pain and pleasure. The bodies struggle with each other as though they were drowning, roll on the ground as though cut down by a gunshot while running, flee, grab each other, and we are pinned to our seats as though by the most frightening of suspenses. Men carry women like panting preys or sleeping children: or fastened like birds to a long rod lowered from the flies. A rain of black earth echoes, like a negative, the eery powdery white clouds of Welcome to Paradise. There is a kiss, a long cinema kiss that the other dancers contemplate, motionless …”

Source: Le Monde, November 21st, 1991