Offenbach La Vie parisienne

Do you see the stage as a natural extension of the catwalk, or as an entirely different form of expression?

I would actually say the opposite: the Haute Couture runway was an extension of the stage, since from the 1980s onwards I became both a costume designer and a fashion designer at the same time. Fashion was merely a rather unexpected detour along my path. Ever since childhood, I have been drawn to performance in all its forms. I have always regarded my clients as heroines, the leading ladies of their own lives, whose stories often belonged to the worlds of cinema, theatre or opera. Each collection was rather like a novella, a short film, or a fairy tale.

Behind Offenbach's light-heartedness and humour lies a sharp critique of the society of his time: do you think this dimension is still relevant – or necessary – for today's audience? 

I was surprised by how relevant certain passages in the libretto still are and seem to refer to modern-day Paris. Offenbach’s criticism is therefore clearly visible and audible, and the audience’s reaction confirmed this, not only in Paris, incidentally. This vision of a capital city that has become a kind of theme park for tourists still resonates with us today. However, I do not feel the need to emphasise this point further, and prefer to remain allusive. I merely hint at the endless construction work in the capital through elements from contemporary building sites in the sets for the first act.

For me, sets, costumes, wigs and all the other visual elements are part of the pleasure of going to the theatre. Yet for the past fifty years or so, there has been an almost compulsive urge to transpose every great play and opera into the present day, dressing everyone in business suits and placing them in bank-like interiors inspired by Wall Street or kitsch housing estates. To my mind, this sometimes strips works—particularly those of Offenbach—of part of their charm and distinctive flavour. I therefore chose simply to sprinkle the sets and costumes with a subtle touch of the twenty-first century, enough to evoke life in today's Paris, while embracing an openly bouffe spirit rather than a contemporary one.

Offenbach handles irony, excess and lightness with great precision. Does this musical and theatrical spirit influence your staging? 

It is essential to follow Offenbach's musical and theatrical spirit to the letter, to let ourselves go because he guides us. As we pay attention to the libretto and the score, images emerge and the flow of the staging takes shape. It imposes itself as if it were taking us by the hand.

Your La Vie parisienne brings nineteenth-century Paris into dialogue with a strikingly contemporary vitality. Where, in your view, does the line lie between fidelity and reinvention?

As I mentioned earlier, something about Offenbach's era remains timeless and still speaks to our own: attitudes, emotions and human foibles that never really change. The challenge is to work within the space that connects 1866 - the year of the premiere - to 2027, linking Offenbach's characters with our contemporaries, without becoming trapped in strict historical fidelity that leads only to a lifeless reconstruction, or feeling compelled to relocate the action to another period.

Although I was born a century after Offenbach first emerged on the Parisian scene in the mid-nineteenth century, his music was very much part of the landscape of my childhood. My great-grandmothers, whom I had the privilege of knowing, could well have crossed paths with him. They had heard his music in their youth. As someone who is unabashedly nostalgic, deeply attached to the past, and an incorrigible historian of costume, I have always been fascinated - among many other periods - by the era of Napoleon III: the great World Fairs, the theatres along the famous Boulevard du Crime, the crinolines... I spent countless hours poring over newspapers and magazines discovered in my grandparents' attic.

Your staging creates a very distinctive visual universe: between deliberate references and creative freedom, what were the cornerstones of this imaginary world? 

This was my very first time directing, and just like when I started sewing without any training, I told myself that I should only follow my instincts, my convictions, the “small voice” inside me, without looking left or right. I think that giving pleasure to others starts with giving pleasure to yourself, without restriction; it’s hit or miss, but it’s also the best way to avoid regrets or remorse.  

My very first idea was to have La Vie parisienne sung and acted in a somewhat melodramatic vein, subtly emphasising the social criticism embedded in the work and deliberately going against the grain of productions of Offenbach that, to my taste, often lean too heavily towards light entertainment. Very quickly, however, I realised how artificial that approach felt so I chose a world that was not tragicomical but closer to the world of circus. In circus, you can exaggerate certain moments, like clowns do when they start to speak, whereas free rein is given to the poetry of acrobats and contortionists, or the imaginativeness we see in trained animal acts.

Late nineteenth-century Paris saw the rise and flourishing of countless circuses, and it is that atmosphere which underpins the entire production: the ring, the festoon lights, the stripes, the slightly grotesque exaggeration, the nocturnal atmosphere, the make-up, the wigs, the extravagant checked and polka-dot costumes, the ringmaster in tails and top hat, imaginary exoticism, but also the magic of conjurors, tightrope dancers and so on. It is this circus universe that I chose as a link, a common ground between Offenbach and myself.

Throughout your career, you have explored the relationship between costume and identity. How did this expertise translate to the stage and its dramaturgy, particularly in La Vie parisienne?

I believe my imagination has always been populated by archetypes that I have constantly reinterpreted in my own way: fairy tales and legends, rituals and traditions, icons and the commedia dell'arte... A vast repertoire, a space beyond time, an inheritance from which I draw to create my own theatre - the theatre of fashion, the stage and life itself.

These are the archetypes I have reimagined here. They are inspired by period caricatures, such as those found in nineteenth-century newspapers and posters, and they clothe each character - and the chorus - as I imagined them while listening to the score, summoning the worlds and creatures that have inhabited my imagination ever since childhood.

A production of Offenbach also requires a measure of childlike wonder, together with a certain adolescent romanticism, while never forgetting the cynicism - or perhaps the clear-eyed pessimism - that comes with adulthood.

How did you approach shaping the caustic characters of La Vie parisienne?

With the more caustic characters, as with all the others - including the chorus - I constantly moved back and forth between the image suggested by the score and reality: the singers' physical presence, their facial expressions, the way they move.

I always dread the moment when I have to imagine and sketch costume designs for actors, dancers or singers whom I have not yet met. The costumes must fit each performer as closely as possible in order to help them inhabit their character. It is bespoke tailoring in every sense: physically, mentally and spiritually.

In this case, I already knew some of the performers from previous collaborations, which was both inspiring and immensely helpful. I also hope that the deliberate emphasis on exaggeration and caricature has enabled each of the different casts we have worked with since the production premiered in 2021 to slip naturally into the skin of their characters.

Finally, during the first rehearsals, I encouraged everyone to express their own personalities freely - to bring forward their ideas, their improvisations and their natural instincts. As a newcomer to directing, I was fortunate to rely on directors Romain Gilbert and Laurent Delvert, who helped channel all of this and shape the actors' work from the guidance I had provided.

What do you hope audiences in Monaco will take away from your La Vie parisienne?

I don’t know the Monegasque audience yet, but as everywhere else we’ve been, I dare to hope that the pleasure I took in creating this version of La Vie parisienne will be palpable, as well as everything that each singer, dancer and chorus member shares with them every night.