LIMF modes 1

Akemashite Omedeto Gozaimasu, as they say in Japan. Or Happy New Year to you.


As I have promised/threatened previously, my primary writing this year is on my novel, so I am attempting to adopt a more succinct approach to recording my out and abouts.

Everyone seems terribly depressed at the mo, but not me. I find myself in fine fettle. One of the reasons for this is the superb extravaganza that is the London International Mime Festival (LIMF). The name is wonderfully misleading; there are no starving drama students running into invisible walls or golden glitter encrusted living statutes to be found, just the finest companies from around the world specialising in visual / movement theatre, object manipulation and puppetry. OK there’s a guy called Pep who does things with balloons but I shan't be going to that.


First up were Mossoux-Bonte, and a show called Nuit Sur Le Monde. It was a kind of triptych, and moments in the first and last sections were as stunning examples of visual theatre as I have seen for many a year. In the first part, multiplying members of the cast e-merge from and back into a thick set wall. They move a little like good old Morph, evoking claymation, puppetry, and Ray Harryhausen style animation. Sometimes they sink back into the wall, disappearing into it like bass reliefs, and when they re-emerge it is as if the three dimensional effect is heightened. In the final part, lit in a weird harsh red light, they shuffle out towards the audience on their knees like damaged puppets or demented mutants. The middle section is not as successful for me – the cast are dressed in white robes, and perform movements evoking uneasy awakenings and awkward interactions which made me think of the innocents before the fall; then stripped naked they seem to discover the pain of childbirth, hardship and death. Overall a stunning start to LIMF.

Next up were sculptor Mique Barcelo and performance artist Josef Nadj and a stage comprising ten tons of clay. Each night, in a work called Paso Doble, the artists attack the clay, and attack themselves and each other with clay, producing an ever evolving three dimension action painting/sculpture. It may lack the cerebral quality of Mossoux-Bonte’s work, but nonetheless was absorbing and the work produced (images below) was surprisingly stong, evoking thoughts of Picasso, Gaudi and Dali. The performance itself had touches of Godot, and Laurel and Hardy (high praise indeed).

Finally for this report, Teatro Corsario’s adult fairy tale Aullidos brought hard-core puppet sex to the ICA. If (like me) you have ever dreamt of mermaids performing cunnilingus or wanted to see a puppets penis go from flaccid to erect in front of your very eyes, then this was the show for you. It was like a Brothers Grimm tale retold by Angela Carter and then staged by a 10 year old Pedro Almodovar. The puppetry was excellent – I particularly liked a superb fight scene which managed to incorporate Crouching Tiger and Matrix style slo-mo effects, and the final scene where the wolf-boy hero (having given the heroine a good licking with his remarkably long tongue) carries her off at high speed.

Inspired by LIMF I have dug out my old black polo neck, a look I haven’t sported since my youthful prime. Also in my sights is the perfect theatrical-type black shirt; nipping into Selfridges I was amazed to see that the place was full of black shirts. It is this season’s big thing. Weird how this has happened. Did the fashion world know LIMF was coming? Is mime going to be this year’s dubstep/ kate and pete / new black? Are we to be treated to Celebratory Come Miming or Puppets on Ice? I do hope so.

More reports from LIMF next week.