Joussour is a Montreal theatre company created in 2018. In its theatre, the group tries to build bridges between territories, people and cultures.



It takes courage, haste, a spirit of contradiction,

hope in what goes and determination and perseverance, and

the stubbornness in always finding a way to defend itself. It takes

the spirit of contradiction to find that it does not go like that. It takes

head down and head in the clouds. Epidermal reactions. Of

prophetic injunctions. Accumulations to find the beautiful even if it is not

not the ugly that is missing. It takes flair to push open the doors that

only open with a blow to risk the open fracture. It takes

tactics, stratagems, clever innovations to defy the laws of

classical physics. We need the attack. Verbal. Shout under the roofs despite the

risks of backlash by certain administrations which deal with

small affairs well settled. From the attack to the mouths of gentlemen and

ladies who are doing better without asking the question of the answers that

we are trying to wear. Of the attack in the absurd circle of a day earlier

than another - when sometimes it's just the right thing to go, without looking for the time

exact, ideal place and absolute reason for doing rather than nothing.



THERE HAS TO EXIST something somewhere that makes sense as they say

the English. Even though we don't always remember - memory is

in the body, in the gesture. There must be an explanation for the walk

that we believe to have no destination simply because it has not announced its

project. There must be traces, hieroglyphic or cuneiform, or

even without looking so far, who can account for all this

obstinacy in telling. And if there are no traces yet, we will try to

implement. You have to invent to find something to discover, and etc ...



THERE WILL ALWAYS BE someone to listen. Do not worry

vacant benches. Simply everyone does not always have time to

Tender ear. Time has to be taken. Time is provoked. And the ears,

it tickles - with unexpected unexpected sounds. It's up to us to play for

bring together. There will always be a possibility to come together.



FORCED TO take us for superficial, we gave bad

clues. We will have to repopulate the public benches left vacant by shortages

curious ears. And we will have to give ourselves opportunities. And reasons. And

legitimacy. And cries of rallying. And steps of encouragement. And

pretensions to reality. And claims to utility in the world. And

pretensions to necessity. Tell ourselves that we are necessary. To repeat :

we are needed. Repeat to yourself: we are necessary. To what? AT

who ? Why ? Let us give ourselves time to search. As long as we don't

will not sell hoses for washing machine, we will not have to worry about the

target audience. Let's give the benefit of the doubt. The luck of despair. From the corner of

the eye, watch our next witness, our next street comrade, ready to

small public bench, at the smallest interruption, at the slightest diversion.




love you.

My brother, my sister, my love, madam, sir.

I tell you I love you because we will have to fight.

Hard. Hard.

It might be windy. Not every mild day under the Mediterranean sun.

There will be wind to scare away the notes of intention. There may be rain.

And maybe colder: snow. But maybe more beautiful too.

Beauty against the cold.

The beautiful against the tiring.

The beautiful against the discouraging.

The beautiful against.



You have to put yourself in a state.

Ok. Ok.

And it's the same for everyone.

Its not always easy. No, sometimes we are more ... While other times we are

is right ... and that's okay. It's okay not to always want to.

Already getting up: an extra effort. Remarkable. Honorable.

Get up - well done.

Come - well done.

Stay - thank you. Thank you so much. Stay, thank you for all the missed opportunities,

those who will no longer show up or those of others.

Stay, thank you, for everything else.

Dare to stay. We in front of you. And vice versa.

An index of brutal happiness.

Happiness is with a smile on the outside.

Sadness is with the returned smile.

Sadness is the reverse of happiness. Or its counterpoint.

Melancholy is the happiness of being sad.

Depression is when the plane goes down a bit.

The great depression is the family and the grapes full of anger.

So - the beautiful against the ease of falling into the ugly.



Today - Rally.


Come together and be alike.

Find the lowest common denominator.

Maybe just a letter.

Barely a line.

A sign like a wink.

A point and a point that would meet.

Have the humility of the lowest common denominator.

You walk in my footsteps or I walked in those who will be yours:

today we shared part of the circuit, the route, the adventure,

of history / epic.



Find the element that brings us together.

As small as it is.

Maybe as ridiculous as it is.

Don't make a fool of it at first. Whoever laughs last will laugh.

A sword is stuck in a rock in the Kingdom of Logres - ridiculous.

A child trusts an old magician to climb the mountains -


A small little detail. Ridiculous.

And yet.

Yet - from this detail is born a world.

This is the Big Bang theory.

It is the spark that rekindles the hopes of fire.

It's the firefly to hang up the universe

It is believing in a sword stuck in a rock.

And a whole people who love the story they tell themselves.

Because Merlin exists.



We are neither architects nor many.

We have neither the power of fire nor the power of the multitude.

People pass (people just pass).

To go where ? Under the sky full of stars which cannot be seen because of neotechnologies

competitively photosensitive.

So obviously when we don't see the stars we don't realize

lucky that we have / or that we don't. Lucky, what ...

We go from point A to point B.

Mathematical logic. Geographical destiny.

Pythagoras, Thales, Euclid - very old grandfathers to guide our roads


Not bad, that.

Points coming through central segments where it works in one direction or

In another. The important thing is that it works. Let it circulate. That the

movement is created.

Ok. Ok.

We will start from there: a movement is created. Whatever the starting point,

even less the point of arrival. We are going to get through, on the way, to the beautiful

middle of life, to the exact extent that the movement no longer continues

exactly as he had started.



Shock wave.

Lay traps on the cobblestone pavement of habits.

And tender are our traps.

Sleight of hand. Lady of the heart thrown for the beauty of the gesture.

And too bad if the cosmos does not change immediately.

Patience. Patience.

To be on the way like highwaymen.

Pirates in stormy seas. Assaults despite the rotten barracks that

serve as cruises.

Look each other in the eye while waiting for the next exceptional convoy.

Arm yourself. Arm yourself with patience. The brightest blade of all.


Be there exactly as point A intersects our segment.

Intersection and shkoon!

A blow in the void.

Miss his target.

Two hits in the void.

Stay strong.

Three blow in the void.

Keep the target - in mind.

Both feet planted in the ground as soil.

The territory in self-defense.

The plain is full of our citizenship.

The street is not the street.

We imagine the roads as we imagine the revolution - with the idea of ​​running the

as soon as possible if the police are after us.

We do not take root, we test the waters.

We make possibilities of revolt.

One thinks of attempted insurrection - in the event that it is necessary to take the


Words, weapons, it's the same!

So: heavy artillery.

Point blank.

Words, weapons, it's the same. It kills the same.

So: precautions.

Precision in the hit.






Take the time to appropriate the territory.

That is to say, be there and no longer be afraid to disturb.

The territory: that is, where I can move forward.

Ok, it's ok, ok, it's good, that's it, it's there.

I'm here.

Between heaven and earth.

Quite cosmological.

Almost mythological.



We will not have spoken in a vacuum.

The universe at least - at least that - the universe receives.

Add something to the world.

And even if it's not much.

And even if it doesn't weigh heavily in the scales / who knows the weight of

arguments? A grain then a grain then a grain - one day it's impossible


First bullet and surge.



A French revolutionary climbs onto a bar table to harangue the crowd

and shout "To arms!" ". He sets off the movement that will demolish the Bastille. And

it is an architectural movement.

“To arms! "

Not a word in the air. Besides, there are no empty words. As there is

no declaration of war in the air. As there is no declaration of love

in the air. It is all very very serious. There is no gunshot or gunshot

lightning in the air. There are words, and that's enough. A full-fledged existence.

Words are not kitchen recipes or remittance slips.


A tree is a tree.

An airplane is an airplane.

A word is a word.

Don't blush. No.

Don't blame yourself for believing the vocabulary.

Continue to believe for others. Yes.

Believe more.


A country, a birthday, a trip to the Beqa valley, it's called.

Otherwise, we can always dream without ever going there.

I am a country.

I'm on the move.

I walk.

I defend myself.



You have to put yourself in a state.

In a certain disposition.

Otherwise, we wouldn't be able to do it ourselves.

Going forward is not a posture but a movement.

To risk saying something rather than nothing.

Because it will always have to have said something even if it is not

heard a lot.

The universe absorbs: words, molecules, up to the atom which forms a body.

I add matter to the world.

I make a gesture.

I define an intention.



The intention to speak in front of oneself.

Say bluntly, without pretension, no politeness in there, say: I'm in front


I am in front of you.

Didascalie for the public.

To say: this is a tragedy.

No sweet words to please the ear: courageous words for health

of the heart.

Don't say: "how are you?" but say "where are we going now?" ".

Do not say either: "I wish you a happy new year" but say "I

brings good luck to attack ”.



No balms ointment formulas for the soul to appease anger:

incantations-storms which sharpen weapons to direct anger.

No longer be afraid of our own ambitions and utopias and vehemences and

warlike attempts and wills.

I say warriors not to say poetic.

I say warriors not to say heroic.

I say warriors because I mean warriors.

I say warriors to say warriors.

Don't be afraid of words.

Bad words don't exist. There is nothing vulgar except the formulations and

invitations behind calls for calm.

No calm. No calm. Not that calm that makes you think of concrete. Which does

to feel cold even in the feelings.

No call for calm, but a call for provocation.

That is to say to movement.

That is, to something that resembles the appearance of life.



“A religion is a book that has worked well”.

So apostles. We are. Or multi-verbal evangelists. We are. Or

Witnesses of the Words given (which will not have surrendered).

In this hour and in this place we have come through central segments where

people are walking one way or another.

We had to lay down our arms (to better take them back),

and install the stage as an altar

and take the apostrophe for anathema.

We did not come to accuse.

We did not come to forgive.

We came to put ourselves in a certain circumstance.

We're not here to say what to do.

We are not here to say what not to do.

We are not coming to put ourselves in a position with ancestry.

We do not come with a project - we are not a board

administrative or an arts council.

What we come to say: words. Words which, end to end, give segments

meaning, and which call, panic, excite, appease, distract for a second

the eye of the walker who sees only forty-five degrees in front of him.



Or so parasites. We are.

(Which is almost the same as apostles.)

To all racks.

We don't want to sign documents.

Besides, we never sign with the same signature.

We have the random even in the identity.

Maybe witches.

Maybe werewolves.

Between dogs and wolves remain the twilight songs in the countryside

Occitan where old Cathars sang of love against kings and kingdoms,

against the laws of war and armored castles.

And beautiful and beautiful hidden in the orchards until dawn, until

that the nightingale signals the day.

Between dogs and wolves, we are there.

Extinct in nature between the branches.

On the other side of the day.



We will have to get used to it.

And don't worry too much.

If we do not respond to cadastres and areas with


Do not care about.

Us first.

It's nothing serious.

The universe is not a form to fill out.

The world doesn't have to sign on the lower right.

Poetic affirmation: doing instead of worrying about it.

It's “A black, E white, I red, U green, O blue. "

Nature is a book written in magical language.

Poetic affirmation: I say and we are.

It's crazy how words can cause a mess in assemblies.

We are not talking, we are trying to invent an alternative system.



The treacherous path and courage slung over your shoulder.

I am an adventurer who goes down into the forest with a blue backpack.

I am nine years old. You always have to be nine years old.

I have the idea of ​​what could be a world with easy approaches.

With paths like to go to the temple of Delphi and pose

crazy questions to the god.

Expect just one more hallucination from him.

A metaphor to overwhelm topical talkers.

An Olympic punchline.

I place a jar of honey at the foot of your altar and some olive branches.

Every day we play this game.

You talk and I listen to you.

And for the time you take to answer me, I'll come back to see you.



I am nine years old. You always have to be nine years old.

And on the geography book, the earth is an orange.

Not metaphorical at all.

And it's not to make people look pretty but to better teach the rules

GDP / GNP / HDI / Happy Planet Index.

The earth is an orange.

Data deconstruction.

Giving is not stealing.

Data is on the move.

One day we believe that the earth is at the center of the universe and another we imagine a

solar system.

Return to the elements.

Very basic position then.

Heraclitus says it:

“The Sun is new every day. "

Heraclitus says it:

“What is contrary is useful; what struggles forms the most beautiful harmony;

everything is done by discord. "

Heraclitus says it:

"If you don't expect the unexpected you won't find it because it is painful

and hard to find. "

Heraclitus says it:

"A child who has fun playing checkers: royalty has a child. "

Heraclitus says it:

“Conflict is the father of everything, king of everything."



“Conflict is the father of everything, king of everything. "

So -

To attack !

On board!

To scuttling!

To sabotage!

Anything that sounds like a phrase like, "We need you to

ask for permission. Or "It's not against you, it's the rule."

So sabotage.

Against everything that can happen without discussion.

The human being is a side trail.

If he can get lost he can find himself again.

And then getting lost is good: it takes you on a journey.



You have to fight against computers, software, forms, everything that has

already the answer even before having stated.

“We have to think through going faster than algorithms. It's exactly

possible. An algorithm can go extremely fast. Can be OK

four million times faster than an individual's nervous system.

But an individual who thinks, it's not faster than an algorithm, it's fine

infinitely faster. What I mean by that is that what goes very

quickly in an algorithm, these are capacities to calculate extremely

quickly on very, very, very large amounts of data. Thinking is not

calculate. To think is to branch off. A machine cannot branch off -

in that sense. To think that means, at some point, to go infinitely

faster than any forking algorithm. To branch off is

change the view of things. "



"... an individual who thinks, it does not go faster than an algorithm, it is fine

infinitely faster. "

It's a race.

Not against the clock.

Race against the monsters who look at us with their photocopier eyes.

Who open their mouths to give information when we don't care about


Sorry ! I do not care.

I don't want my living room to inform me.

I want to be informed - I want to be let a child tell me a


I want an anecdote.

I don't want to know if it's raining tomorrow: I want to know what it feels like to have

wet hair.

I don't want an algorithm at home, I'm sorry, I won't found a

family under these conditions.

The office clerk in the novel says: "We can't meet without

to lose. The only sure way not to find yourself is not to know that you are

lost. "

No, I don't want to know where I went. I want to lose myself.

No, I don't want to know what I ate. I want to feel the hunger and the appetite.

No, I don't want to know what I'm going to order tomorrow for my wedding,

the birthday of my first child, the holidays in 2066 on the Moon.

I don't want to know my lucky digital star; I still have the luxury of

lift your eyes.

I am a human being - that is, an animal that branches off.

I can surprise you with my inappropriate desires for the situation.



No, the dish that satisfies is not on the menu.

The menu of the day is spoiled food.

With our tastes of minced steaks, we will end up freeze-dried; and even the Holy

Laurent as a whole will not be enough to restore our composure.

All tastes are in nature, they say.

It is also said that it is with tastes as with colors.

That it cannot be discussed.

It should have been put in some Constitution or Bible, that one.

That it cannot be discussed.

You could say like dreams and wishes when you see a shooting star.

You could say like places to sleep and mountains to see a

shooting star.

It does not argue.

It doesn't compare.

It speaks for itself.

Gemstones lose their value when they are sought after by


I don't wear a value around my neck.

If I am attacked, it is not a jewel that is stolen from me but a symbol that

tears me off.

The Gold Rush is a race for toilet paper - the obsession with hygiene


The Gold Rush is an apocalypse movement.

The Gold Rush, we don't know if it wasn't Hollywood that made the films


The Gold Rush is a chariot launched at full speed in the straight line of the


Now - a human being does not draw straight, it branches off.




Just for fun.


Just for the vertigo.

What's the risk ?

Jump into the void - worth every cliffhanger in the world.

I approach the cliff and I wave, a sign as if to say I'm trying

experience but there is no protocol, no white coat, no table

to complete (even less) and no hypothesis to validate.

Yes ! A hypothesis.

The hypothesis is that: to believe is to want / want, it is power / power,

it is to go globally through unusual areas.

I say "unusual" when I thought "insolent".

What's the risk ?

Fall - so what?

The scratched knee is the risky risk coin.

Red knee.

Cheek red.

Red joy

Red sun - at the end of a day to defy the laws of gravity.

The laws of physics are the only laws we should obey.

The only laws worthy of being called laws.

The tribunal has only one condition: it is Galileo who pronounces the sentences.




A smile.

So too difficult: think of a funny story.

So too difficult: think of an irony of fate.

Otherwise: think of something beautiful. The smile of admiration matters.

Otherwise: think cynicism.

This alcohol to intoxicate everything. But the real cynicism, the pure, the not diluted in fifteen

ounces of bourgeois rhetoric. The sparkling cynicism. Warrior cynicism,

royal, legendary.

The one who does that when Alexander the Great asks Diogenes what he wants

most in the world, he replies: “Get away from my sun. "

If no smile after that, it's a muscle problem.

Try to be a bit of a joker in the subways and on television sets.

Make jokes that go wrong, that is, real jokes.

Have your finger on the trigger, do not shoot because there are movements that do not

can't be, but a long smile seems to say: I know, I know everything

this but I will not resolve myself.



Consider a solution.

Which means: an answer.

And the answers are still in the minds of alchemists.

We had to draw a crazy machine on a corner of the table so that

centuries later we resigned ourselves to building a machine with the air of a bird.

The poet before the engineer.

The novelist at the forefront.

I sing you a song for all the technological advancements to come.

Literature is not four million times faster than a circuit

electronic as can be seen in some siliconized valleys; the

literature goes infinitely faster.

At the bend of a rock, a sword is planted.


At the random of a meeting between a wizard and a child, the sword is withdrawn.


And caption - let what should be read be read.

This is not theater, it is a very old form of communication

called "oracle".



The most beautiful songs are songs of claim.

And the most beautiful poems are open letters.

We don't write because we like the smell of paper or feel good in a

armchair by the fire.

We are never good anywhere / always be elsewhere, always on the move

like the stars that are said to be shooting to lower the morale of the queues.

We don't write for fun, distraction, coquetry - we don't write

like we read before going to sleep.

No way to fall asleep. It's all about waking up.

The most beautiful poems are open letters.

And the most beautiful songs are songs of claim.

The most beautiful songs are war songs.

I say warriors not to say poetic.

I say warriors not to say heroics.

I say warriors because I mean warriors.

I say warriors because if we ignore almost everything about armed revolutions

in the fist, there is in the songs, there is in the songs, there is in the songs ...

little melody, an epic memory of an era.

The revolution is epigenetic.

Because nothing that is human to us is foreign.



There are only songs that make revolutions.

At least who is wearing them.

It's true: you can't always hit the target, but cocking the arm, yes, you

can, and also aim one can, and hold your breath to give yourself all the

chances, that too we can.

Otherwise, what good is it?

Otherwise, what good?

Why sing?

For who ?

How much energy to spend to look like signs?

We are not good for zoos.

We are not made for museums.

The museum is not made for the Muses like a perfume shop is not made

for romanticism.

Not to say something that can be said differently or that can be repeated

without bearing any consequences.

Words are blades and we do not innocently throw blades: risk

is taken.



So okay, our arsenal is precarious.

And our boats are frail.

And our erected sails can make you smile, and even laugh.

But we have always had a weakness for desperate attempts.

Desperate attempts never disappoint.

They do not clutter thought with bureaucratic concerns.

No rate of return.

No business plan.

No management.

Desperate attempts are robbing a bank with a political idea in


El Deschidado - black suns at Midnight, hold the thought at the Zenith, throw yourself into the

melee even one against all and believe in the throw of dice.

As Chomo says: beggar by day, prince by night.

Finally: something that looks like an offense or an enlightenment.

Don't be fooled by tax collectors.



Would we stand still while everything in the universe rotates?

"Eppure si muove" said old Galileo Galilei.

Was he talking about what he had under his feet despite common sense? Or

what was above his head, at absurd distances? Or what there

had in his own head, at even more absurd distances and speeds.

If muove.

Something is moving.

It stirs. It gets agitated. Something is vibrating and it just might be

comparable to the effervescence of the planets.



And even, by imagining, even, if by some chance of events, if by

misfortune or luck, or anything that is tossed around, it doesn't matter

anything that could be in the hands of a child who pretends to be

a hero, a heroine ready to advance one against a hundred, one against a thousand, one

against a hundred thousand, even at this risk, at this high improbability, at this game of dice

launched to defy the reflections of the sun, at this risk it would be necessary to hold out.

Because nothing is worth not having tried.

Brecht says it: "He who fights can lose ...

It's true, it's a possibility, you have to take it into consideration, tell yourself: it's

true, it's true, it's extremely true, it's so true that remembering it

would be a bit of an insult to lucidity, but the possibility of one should not

destroy the possibility of the other: there are two sides, two sides, two bets.

"Whoever fights can lose ...



"… But he who does not fight has already lost".

So: question of logic. Mathematical problem. Not great equation

difficult to solve. The difficult part is not in the account but in the action.

Whoever does not fight has already lost.

The theorem asks only to be activated. Like an ancient enigma if

old that one comes to think that it is impossible to solve.

But it is not.

It's just that no one dared to speak.

Simply that: did not dare to say what he believed to be the answer and live the

rest of the world as a consequence of this answer.

Puzzles do not exist, only humans terrified to open their mouths

to say a magic formula.

You have to be crazy or a child to believe in magic.

I mean: you have to be Arthur King of the Kingdom of Logres.



Or completely Idiot.

Come back by the last train and introduce yourself as Prince in an old country

who is bored cataloging his little scams.

You must not be afraid of anything or be afraid of everything.

It can be a hit each. One day, it's darkness all around, the world

is a bottomless sewer; another is the mountains and the fireflies

no longer finish.

To be a Manichean for the sake of integrity.

Think tightrope walker: to stay on a wire, you have to swing from both sides.

And do the synthesis.

And do the synthesis.

I know, I understood: the balance is there.