Pierre Desproges passed away 30 years ago, “carried away unbeknownst by a hungry crab gnawing away at his lung”. From the Petit Rapporteur where he started out in 1975 to the one-man shows of the final years, this writer of a unique, black humour proved that we can laugh about anything… but not necessarily with everyone. Ten years ago or so, Christian Gonon devoted a carte blanche performance to Desproges that has been revived on several occasions since, combining excerpts from Chroniques de la haine ordinaire [Chronicles of Ordinary Hatred], daily radio broadcasts on France Inter in 1986, La Minute nécessaire de Monsieur Cyclopède [The Necessary Moment of Monsieur Cyclopède] an irresistible series created in 1982 for France 3 television, as well as the book Vivons heureux en attendant la mort [Let’s Live Happily while Waiting for Death].
“Real sketches with real big chunks of bravura in them, all tied together by a lowness of inspiration that will fly below the belt of the shortest dwarf” announced Desproges for his 1986 show. In a letter addressed to the author after his death, Christian Gonon defines his one-man show: “It will be everything I like best about you that I can say on a theatre stage. A fraternal alliance. You would have come to the opening night and, with your cyclopean smile, you would have said ‘Desproges at the Comédie-Française… surprising, don’t you think?” And I would have replied: ‘No’”.

Le texte du spectacle est publié au Seuil (collection « Point ») sous le titre Le doute m’habite.
Il est disponible à la Boutique.

Christian Gonon remercie
Hélène Desproges, pour la confiance qu’elle a bien voulu lui accorder
Marie-France Manoncourt, pour son sublime Château-Figeac
Lemercier Yvette, du Vésinet, pour son amour des bêtes…

THE THEATRICAL PRACTICE OF THE SOLO is relatively new to the Comédie-Française. Ever since the seventeenth century, the institution has defined itself first as a troupe of actors whose collective identity predominates over the expression of individualities. From as early as 1674 this quality was pointed out by Samuel Chappuzeau in his Théâtre Francois, when he compared theatre troupes to political “bodies” that functioned as so many small “Republics”. Commenting on actors, he wrote that “they admit no superiors, the name alone offends them; they all wish to be equal, and call each other comrades”. The motto of the Comédie-Française, Simul et Singulis (be together and be oneself), which appeared in 1682 along with the emblem of the buzzing hive, characterises this philosophy in which each contributes, though his or her own talent, to the collective work.

No solos... only soloists

While the practice of performing alone on stage is not considered a fitting pursuit, the “solo” form of the monologue is highly appreciated by the public, and sometimes staged to showcase the protagonist in all his or her splendour and in contrast with the rest of the troupe. This is an effect of the star system that clearly emerged in the nineteenth century.
Soloist practices most often developed outside of the theatre’s activity. Some actors embarked on personal tours that were sometimes scheduled without regard for the interests of the Comédie-Française –Talma or Rachel were capable of taking off while leaving their comrades in difficulty. They would travel with trunks full of costumes but recruit fill-in actors and find makeshift sets on the spot to perform the great scenes of their repertoire. The performance then resembled a recital of choice excerpts, selected to showcase the actor whose talent was all the more strongly emphasised given that he or she was performing alongside second-class actors if not to say amateurs.
The monologue per se developed at the end of the nineteenth century, thanks to the Coquelin brothers, but today remains an exception. The motto Simul et Singulis, perfectly sums up the indispensable paradox for any actor who is the member of a Troupe.

• Visual : Hive, engraving by Guillaumot fils

Concepted and performed by: Christian Gonon
Directed by: Alain Lenglet and Marc Fayet
Lights: Éric Dumas
Original music: Jérôme Destours