50 nuances d'Interlope

50 SHADES OF INTERLOPE - SIGNATURE evening.
The one that celebrates all differences: of sexes, genders, neuroses, kinks, unacknowledged desires... Otherness is its manifesto!

We summon irreverence, dark and light humor, gentleness, the scandalous, the political, queerness, marginality, badassness, and always: kindness…
Above all, it is: a cry in the gloom of the night so as not to forget to live.
Because in a world that sometimes resembles a bad condominium owners' meeting, we erect our cabaret like a velvet barricade against the harshness of our times.

Because outside the world rushes, the world works and exhausts itself, because people chain themselves to overtime while being sold low-cost dreams. Here, we drink to the health of poetic burnout. We go on strike against normality. We set fire to conventions. We sing the transgenerational memories of those who are no longer with us but still dwell within us.

So let your imaginations run wild and let the disorder therapy begin!
Who are you?
Is that you I see over there in the dark?

I am made of gold and blue hour.
A refuge for marginal souls, on the border of what is not lawful, I call the dubious, the ambiguous.
I have a suspicious appearance. It's written all over my face that I'm shady, that I'm hiding.
Outside the bounds of the law, outside the bounds of morality

I never conformed.
I invented my own rules.

At the time, I was told it was a merchant ship for contraband trade.
I am still a vessel, but also a place, a milieu, a business, a deal, a transaction, existences, a common sense.
I am ambiguous. Occult. Marginal. Subterranean.

Clandestine archipelago, I am the land of a thousand parts where we cry out, with heart and hands, that we believe in fairies so that somewhere in the world a fairy may rise again. This is my anthem.
I am a saintly madam for all the lost children of our time. My breasts are like an airbag against hatred.

I am a well-known place where people recognize each other, over a glass of harsh beer, liqueurs, or fine wines. A place where people speak vaguely, their bodies sweating, their hearts sparkling.

I'm at the Interlope Cabaret and I'm arriving at the Café de Paris on November 13th.

Translated automatically - see original description in French