Surcouf

On a warm, beautiful day in a quiet provincial town in Switzerland, folks start congregating along the Aare River’s edge, next to a poster announcing Cie Sacékripa’s Surcouf. A wooden platform bobs gently in the water, tethered several meters from the shore. A small boat, barely big enough for the two men inside it, appears to the left, rowing towards us. They cumbersomely make it onto the platform to proudly unfurl the sign announcing their show which has clearly already begun. Apart from a loudspeaker dangerously positioned on the platform which plays music on cue, the duo performs in slapstick silence while the crowd roars with laughter.

The platform is clearly designed to tip dramatically at the slightest shift of weight, an aspect thoroughly exploited by the performers. In sequences shared between the tipsy-turvy platform and the flimsy boat, balancing on slippery and sloping edges of partially submerged objects animate the act. Acrobatic attempts on wet wood are carried out in deliberately clumsy ways that inevitably lead to soaked performers and a great deal of dunking and splashing. Hauling one other out of the water, hilariously feet first, draws delighted shrieks from the children watching. The grand finale involves a staged parody of a synchronized swimming show, complete with a makeshift water show using two ridiculous rubber hoses and a hand pump.

Water is thus foregrounded as decidedly groundless, an unreliable element for keeping anyone on their feet, but particularly conducive to keeping one on their toes, able to adapt to ever-shifting, slippery surfaces. – A. Street