Pina (english version)

Pina

“You start all your sentences with “me”! I can’t stand you anymore!”

I also couldn’t stand Pina anymore, I couldn’t stand her on stage and I definitely couldn’t stand her off the stage. We would fight like two lions. We probably would’ve wanted to kill each other. Pina wasn’t bad as an actress: together, at the end of the day, we were a good duo on stage. But the problem is that the stage, is like a double bed with a single cover : there’s space for two, but you’ve gotta share the blanket to avoid someone feeling cold. We didn’t share anything. And I could feel that it bothered me when Pina would get an applause. You’re disgusting Brancusi, I would tell myself, you’re an envious man, jealous and selfish. Yup, I’m disgusting, an envious man, jealous and selfish… but that’s me, that pinch I’d feel was there and I could do nothing about it.

That time we were in Avignon, at the festival. There were forty degrees, we were wearing costumes of the ‘600, so much colorful make up on our faces, and all we wanted was to get out of there, go far from all that madness, to the beach, in the water, get cool.

“You didn’t give me the right punch line Brancusi, that’s why I came in late.”

“Pina, you always come in late on that scene.”

“Because you don’t give me the right punch line!”

“What are you talking about? I don’t give you the right punch line?”

“Your line, you keep it all to yourself, and I can’t hear it backstage.”

“That’s not true.”

“Maybe you weren’t paying enough attention?”

“I can’t hear it.”

“Ok, next time I’ll shout it.”

“You’re unbearable!”

“What do you want me to tell you?”

“ Stop it!”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“YOU TORTURE ME!”

And Pina burst into tears.

That show, that Molière, was a hit. We filled the theatre every night, and the audience would crack up, people spoke about us in the streets and in the cafes of the city. We were one of the youngest companies in the game. We were going strong. We were eight : four men and four women. It was my first professional theatre company. On stage, I have to say, we knew what we were doing, it was like magic : we would go up those four steps, and on the stage boards of the commedia dell’arte show, we were all in harmony, we would breathe together. The comical effects were studied and timed. A comic effect every forty-five seconds more or less. The show lasted a little more than an hour, and we killed it for at least three fourths. People left with cramps to their stomachs. Off the stage, however, no more magic, we would all fight fiercely.

Not long after that, I would meet the great Peter Frame. The great Peter Frame would tell me one day: “ I wrote and created shows for more than thirty-five years. I’ve won awards, I’ve directed festivals, I’ve toured in the most important theatres of the world… the most important thing that I’ve kept with me, are the people I’ve met.”

Yup, the people, the loves, the friends, the enemies. Pina, when we saw each other for the last time, we had stopped fighting, it seemed like she had finally given up. I had left to go work in the company of the great Peter Frame, a big shot in the game. That was truly a big break, I would go play in theatres with air conditioning, the costumes would be fresh and clean, and they would give me plenty of money.

When we saw each other for the last time, spring had just begun in Paris, and Paris during spring is the most beautiful city in the world ; after all those months, dark and gray, the girls take their clothes off and thighs appear everywhere. Everyone smiles, the sun shines on the banks the Saint-Martin channel where everyone sits to look at the reflection of the leaves of the trees in the water. The little green bridge in front of Chez Prune, crossed by plenty of couples walking on it. That was your last spring in Paris Pina, your last spring. It was May, and Pina tied a rope around her neck.

The truth is that I started too many sentences with “me”, I hogged the blanket so many times, leaving you freezing, because when you are a creature of the stage, like us, the attention of the audience warms you up, and you need it like the flowers need the sun.

You were always white and pale, like the moonlight, when there was a ray of sun you would cover yourself to not get burnt. You seemed ridiculous to me, because it was much better to be beautiful, tanned, and loud, instead of pale and reserved.

For a while I thought : it’s your fault Brancusi, you’re a bastard murderer. Then I thought : you’re an egocentric, Brancusi, damned egocentric, to think that she did it because of you! You really think that this shitty earth revolves because of you?

Truth be told, no one will ever know, because no one will ever know what truly goes on in people’s minds.

Most of the things you feel, you don’t know how to express them.

Most of the things that you’d want to say, you don’t say them.

And many, many times, if you say them, the one who listens doesn’t really understand…

One tries to communicate, to say something, anything, with words, with a pen, with music, with whatever you want, one tries.

I, at least, try ; too late Pina, but I try.