The exhibition you dedicate to Alain Crombecque explores his life and career, from his youth to the direction of the Festival d’Automne and the Festival d’Avignon…
He was a mysterious man of theatre, who never directed and barely wrote any articles: a quiet one, if you will. Yet all those who knew him speak of an exceptional presence. We conceived this exhibition at the Maison Jean Vilar, focusing on the personal. Alain Crombecque’s unique personality touched many artists, and his energy accompanied them in their creative process; many see in him a mentor, or at the very least an important interlocutor. A “gaze” cast upon their work. It is that unique relationship between a man and artists that we highlight through the use of many documents. A filmed testimony sums up his commitment: “There are never any breaks. I go to the theatre every evening.” We have chosen to use the first sentence of that confession for the title of this exhibition, which will be complemented by two days of tribute, on 6 and 7 July.
How do you explain the entirely unique role he played in the theatrical landscape?
This is partly explained by his background, which we have chosen to exhibit through some three hundred and fifty items, over three-quarters of which come from his personal collection: everything that Alain Crombecque gathered over the course of his existence, mementos from his own life, his encounters, and his adventures in theatre. We display the diary entry written by his mother about his birth in 1939, in Lyon. He was born during the war in a difficult environment—part of his family being Jewish. Visitors can see his family’s identity papers from the occupation, stamped by the Vichy regime: all those personal and familial documents that allow us to follow his passage through the century from the inside. Lyon in 1940 brings to mind Jean-Pierre Melville’s Army of Shadows: we are in the very heart of History, in the most tragic way possible. Alain Crombecque carried those early years within him: he quickly developed a political consciousness, which then led him to join UNEF, the student union. He became its cultural leader during the great era of student theatre in the 1960s, with the University Theatre Festival in Nancy. He met Argentinian artists in exile: Copi, Alfredo Arias, but also Jérôme Savary and the Magic Circus… He was an active spectator! Showcasing his personal collection—in collaboration with his widow Christine—allows us to discover everything he kept from his beginnings: childhood drawings, student ID cards, objects brought back from his travels, many photographs, and of course his library, a centerpiece of the show! We offer an intimate chronological journey up to the point when he was appointed press officer and joined the Festival d’Automne, then the Festival d’Avignon.
How did he become director of those two events one after the other?
He was press officer to Michel Guy starting in 1972, and succeeded him as director of the Festival d’Automne from 1974 to 1977 when Guy was appointed Deputy Minister of Culture. Upon Michel Guy’s return, Alain Crombecque left to work with Patrice Chéreau and Catherine Tasca at the Théâtre Nanterre-Amandiers. And it was once again Michel Guy who encouraged him to take the direction of the Festival d’Avignon from 1985 to 1992, after which he returned to the Festival d’Automne, where he would remain until his death in 2009.
What function do you think best sums up his activity?
When talking about Alain Crombecque, the term “programmer” is undoubtedly too limiting. He belongs to French cultural history as a sort of leading figure in the theatrical world. He invented his profession. Thanks to him, certain artists or shows were able to establish close ties with certain structures and to find their audience: at the Festival d’Avignon, this includes Peter Brook with the Mahabharata in 1985, or Antoine Vitez with The Satin Slipper in 1987.
Let’s go back to those three periods of festival directorship. What kind of director was he?
Whether as a press officer or director, he was in the right place at the right time. And one might add under the right mentorship, with Michel Guy. Michel Guy was a man of great culture, a right-wing dandy in a left-wing environment. Alain Crombecque knew how to look beyond those differences, which allowed him to meet people whose opinions differed from his but who had daringly avant-garde tastes. He was a man who listened to those he worked with, like Patrice Chéreau, and to those he discovered. He was also open to exploration, and welcomed with generosity and enthusiasm foreign artists. The Japanese, Indian, Persian, and South American programmes he designed testify to this. The Japanese season of the 1978 Festival d’Automne helped introduce Butoh and contemporary Japanese music to France. Similarly, he showcased New York artists such as Merce Cunningham, non-European music from Africa, India, or Iran, as well as contemporary experiments, with Stockhausen or Boulez. He was not just a man of theatre. Like his collaborators Joséphine Markovits or Marie Collin at the Festival d’Automne, he was a real trailblazer.
The exhibition showcases the encounters of artists from various fields, ranging from the performing arts to visual arts, which often transformed into genuine friendships…
Yes, for instance, we present paintings which were gifted to him by Tadeusz Kantor, which illustrate those friendships: all the more so because, during the communist era, the Polish director was highly distrustful of theatre administrators. Their relationship started as distant and cautious, but over time grew into a deep friendship. Other essential relationships appear throughout the exhibition, through Alain Crombecque’s short but moving letters. Loyalty, to him, was a key value. These notes written on festival letterheads or postcards sent from abroad tell of his relationships with Peter Brook, Klaus-Michael Grüber, or Antoine Vitez… Some of the other documents are more unusual but just as striking, like this rejection letter addressed to Jean-Claude Gallotta when he inquired about the possibility of landing a helicopter in the Cour d’honneur! The exhibition opens with his Solex bike, which he used to travel around Avignon from show to show. This bike was like his double. It is that surprising personality we follow throughout his life and career.
One of the most striking aspects of the exhibition is undoubtedly his spirit of openness…
Alain Crombecque treated everyone equally, famous artists and interns alike. This “democracy of friendships,” always present, is likely the product of his own activist background. The exhibition also showcases poets and writers he cherished: René Char, Nathalie Sarraute, Robert Pinget, Edmond Jabès… all present in his library and whom he invited to Avignon.
The exhibition also shines a light on his collaboration with plastic artists…
This is once again the result of a “logic of friendship.” We have the posters he commissioned from artists for both festivals and carefully preserved, along sometimes with their drawings or preparatory sketches. These are great artists like Pierre Alechinsky, Antoni Tàpies, Miquel Barceló, Annette Messager, Christian Boltanski, and Valère Novarina. We’re notably exhibiting Novarina’s large painted silk curtain he used for one of his productions at the Tinel de la Chartreuse, La Chair de l’homme.
Can you tell us about the exhibition’s scenography?
It was designed by actor and director Xavier Gallais, in a very airy and simple manner. It could be the scenography for an intimate show, as if one were entering successively into the different rooms of a house. The house of Alain Crombecque.
Interview conducted by Marc Blanchet (February 2024) and translated to English by Gaël Schmidt-Cléach