Les Antliaclastes: Waltz of the Hommelettes

From a very young age I found Grimms’ Fairy Tales to have a force unlike any others. They can be fantastical, logical, absurd, comic, cruel, all at the same time. I love their folkloric imagery, their mixture of Christian and pagan themes, and their alchemical symbolism. In a matter-of-fact tone and simple language they speak of morality as well as basic codes for everyday society and its taboos. These tales have a childlike logic, which can function to expose the hypocrisy of adult logic. They cut straight to the bone. 

Life for ordinary people at the turn of the 19th century could be brutal. Hunger and starvation were widespread, and often an extra mouth to feed became a matter of life and death for the rest of the family. These tales, often told whilst spinning (a typical female job in the Grimms’ stories) and other domestic chores were far more than entertainment; they also taught basic survival skills. The way that Disney portrays the tales highlights qualities very different to the ones that most attract me.

This production of Waltz of the Hommelettes is loosely based on The Elves, three short stories relating to the exploits of a band of elves who interact in different ways with mankind. Mankind and nature are treated here as opposite forces. At the heart of these tales is the dialogue between dominant religion and folk wisdom – the latter often called superstition. 

The music is by Moondog (Louis Thomas Hardin 1916-1999), a blind and homeless New York mystic, poet and composer and Swiss farmhand/composer Adolf Wolfli (1864-1930), in a soundtrack arranged by Karine Dumont with clock sounds, bird song, cracking eggshells and the tinkling of glass – the sound atmosphere of elvish times.
(Adapted from an interview with Claudine Bocher)