The everyday — what happens day after day — is reassuring. It provides habits, points of reference, and a certain sense of comfort. It is essential because it is something we all share; it concerns each and every one of us. Yet it is also associated with the mundane, with what is considered unremarkable or uninteresting. Our relationship to everyday life is a curious one. The word itself often carries negative connotations, evoking sadness, monotony, and boredom.

And yet, the repetition of our actions may conceal new meanings. Our gestures are part of a social, cultural, and emotional inheritance. We are constantly reproducing them, and within that repetition lie memories and experiences that quietly shape our unconscious.

The everyday characters I am drawn to portray always possess a certain awkwardness, fragility, or existential hesitation that gives them their singular charm. I am interested in revealing solitude within the collective, in finding that moment in conversation when there is nothing left to say and the body takes over. In these moments, nothing is absent: neither the unspoken revolt that lingers beneath the surface, nor the lucid, silent despair that propels these characters, willingly or not, toward the extraordinary.

I gather movements, attitudes, half-heard words, but also moments of emptiness, inactivity, and waiting. The challenge is then to bring these fragments to the foreground and compose them — almost musically — despite their apparent lack of connection. Through this process, I seek to construct an arrangement of secondary events.

What fascinates me about the stage is that everything can be both entirely true and entirely false. What unfolds before us is real, yet it may shift at any moment.