Come closer … with Fabrice Dominici (Compagnie Inextremiste Circus)
By Thusnelda Marín Jungmann
Photo: This is what the AI imagines the interview setting to look like.
Some performances stay with us long after the curtain has fallen. The art seems to fade away – what remains are feelings and thoughts that demand to be mulled over. Twenty hours and twenty-eight minutes have passed since the performance of “Damoclès” by Compagnie Inextremiste Circus – along with a draft for a juicy review on the night of and several controversial conversations with other festival-goers – when performer Fabrice Dominici and I bump into each other by chance on the festival grounds. I’m stressed between shows; he’s having a cigarette to relieve precisely that stress. Our eyes speak volumes: we should talk.
And that’s what we do. I ask him how he felt about me leaving his performance early. He invites me to sit with him on a bench in the shade. A conversation develops about the discrepancy between character and actor, about circus art between entertainment and responsibility. When the artist Luciana Luthi happens to join us, the conversation expands into a shared exploration: What does risk mean in contemporary circus today?
Thusnelda Marín Jungmann: So, now we’re sitting here in the shade. Yesterday I saw your piece “Damoclès”. I left after 15 minutes. What was that like for you?
Fabrice Dominici: I noticed you left. And I was really sad about it. But I understand why.
It’s interesting to show this piece in different countries – it takes time to feel the audience and find the right rhythm. At least, I try.
TMJ: And in which way do you understand that I left?
FD: Because I guess I’m pushing some limits. We want to say something. It’s about an emergency in culture in France. Things are moving very fast, and we only have 45 minutes to address them. Sometimes it’s too fast, sometimes too weird.
TMJ: For me yesterday, it was too weird. There’s this ambivalence: you need help, but your role is – to put it in a nice way – really, really unfriendly. Why should we help your character?
FD: The character is not me. It reflects the world we live in – people in power making others do things they don’t want to do. It’s about manipulation. This character is difficult for me. But if I want to address these topics, I have to work with it. It’s like «Star Wars», the dark side. I play with it – and we as a company pay a price: We lose people. When you left, I felt really bad. It reminded me of when I started as a juggler – I was alone. And still today: when I lose someone, I care.
TMJ: But you could have stopped me, asked why I was leaving. You stayed silent.
FD: I have a lot of responsibility. This show is risky for people, and we care – even if it doesn’t look like it. When I turned, you were already gone. I missed you.
TMJ: And I was glad that I left because I thought: I’m tired of encountering these kinds of roles. In daily life – and on stage.
FD: What does this character mean to you?
TMJ: My honest opinion?
FD: Yes, please.
TMJ: I saw an asshole. A person who doesn’t care. A middle-aged white man claiming space, forgetting women’s names, treating them like objects.
FD: I see your boundaries. But I also try to push them.
TMJ: After I went on stage to help the woman, nothing changed. So, I decided to leave. But maybe that’s the concept: that in the end, it’s just you alone with your wood?
FD: Exactly. That’s the price of the show. Sometimes it’s a shame. I talked about this with a friend yesterday, that I missed you. I thought: yes, I’m an asshole on stage, but it’s the character. It’s about manipulation. It’s hard for me physically, too. When I talk to a woman, it can quickly look like seduction – which is not what I want. I want real connection. I want to talk about emotions, about what I missed when I was alone as a juggler. Nobody cared.
TMJ: That’s exactly my point. Why not show that vulnerability instead of ignorance? We already know how fucked up the world is. Why reproduce it on stage instead of showing how you want to treat people?
FD: Because then it wouldn’t be a risk. We only have 45 minutes to find the right pressure, how political we go. It’s not just a show – it’s an experience about how we communicate. Life is already the show. People should ask: is this real or is it a role? I’m tired of circus being only entertainment. We want people to decide how to react. Everything is possible. It’s a live situation – it grows with the audience.
TMJ: Now we’re sitting here, sharing a bench. I feel close to you – closer than before. Not just because we share this bench physically, but also because now I trust that we share the same values: bye bye fascism. But I don’t agree with your artistic method. These radical strategies feel very 80s to me. So, I asked myself: what is risk today? I found an answer in the presentations of «Initiative feministischer Zirkus». The artist Luciana Luthi said that for her, risk is showing yourself honestly on stage. If your character showed its struggle – if I could feel that “you” want to change – I would want to help. So why not show that struggle?
FD: I do struggle. With the fear of having too much power. In a way, it’s good that you left. It means people don’t just watch – they act. What do you think I could change to make it more vulnerable?
– Just in that moment, the artist Luciana Luthi walks past our temporary discussion bench; the very one I mentioned earlier. –
TMJ: Luciana, perfect timing – do you want to join us? We’re talking about risk in contemporary circus.
Luciana Luthi: Yes, sure.
TMJ: You didn’t see «Damoclès», did you? Fabrice, can you summarize it briefly?
FD: We push people to their limits while trying to entertain. At the same time, we ask: where is the line between entertainment and art?
TMJ: Just for your information, Luciana, I left this performance early – it was too intense. It affected me deeply. So, what does risk mean to you?
LL: For me, it’s the risk of being honest – with myself and the audience. Also opening up about my perspective and personal themes. That’s a big risk. In my work, supported right now by a scholarship of «Initiative feministischer Zirkus», I research minimal circus. I’m not interested in virtuosity, but in being present – almost “naked”, in the sense of not hiding behind technique.
TMJ: That brings me back to your question, Fabrice. Maybe the risk is simply to say: “I want to build something with this wood, but I feel alone. Do you want to join?”
FD: I understand. But the show changes with each audience.
TMJ: True. But your character’s attitude stays the same. Do you care about your audience?
FD: Yes, I do. The “asshole” part – that’s not me. It’s the character. I want to create a magical moment.
TMJ: For me, it wasn’t magical – it felt rude. But at the same time, you created a polarising piece that people want to discuss. That’s important.
FD: Yes – and to talk about the cultural situation in France. Freelance artists are increasingly treated like slaves. There’s not enough money. It’s an emergency – we’re becoming slaves of capitalism.
LL: We already are. But there’s the “Intermittents du spectacle” system, right?
FD: Yes. It supports freelance artists – but it’s in danger. And that also threatens your kind of work, Luciana. It’s a nightmare.
TMJ: You talk about people becoming slaves of capitalism. But why reproduce that feeling by treating your audience like slaves – rather than showing how you want to be treated?
FD: Because I want to show how artists are treated by state power. And manipulation is easy to stage. So, I manipulate the audience. You saw it: people say yes because they’re afraid to say no. I want people like you – people who leave, who set boundaries, who resist. It’s hard for me to play this role, but I have to do it.
TMJ: No – you choose to. That´s a big difference. Like others in contemporary circus are «object manipulators», in my eyes you were kind of a «people manipulator». But to conclude: I’m grateful for both of your works. They show very different approaches to risk. And now we’re here, exchanging perspectives – coming closer. What does “coming closer” mean for you in contemporary circus?
FD: It means breathing together. Listening. Waiting for the right moment to move – hand in hand.
LL: To be present. And to be true.
TMJ: Say no more. Amen.