A waltz in the night
The panther of African Leather
and the bear of Russian Leather
explore the geometry of Paris in a dance.
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She has taken up residence here, in this accidental and rather wild garden, an aban- doned railway overgrown with vegetation. Resting on an old park bench, she looks over part of her life. Stretched out before time, watching it slowly go by. Birds circle above and, as if drawn to the balmy scent of the trees, gently kiss the tips of their branches. At her feet lies a bed of yellow and red leaves, the fruit of autumn in all of its radical splendour. Suddenly, a secret ripples across her skin. Is this the hand of happiness come to tickle her?
Panther-queen leans down and buries her head in the leaves to inhale their scent. She feels good. Aroused by this discovery, she drops from the bench and rolls on the ground, as if to soak up their scent even more deeply. After a moment, she stops, and catches her breath. Then, she gently dips her paw into her fur, sending a shiver through her body, stirring her skin. And she begins to breathe in the odour of her coat... As if she were unearthing new notes deep within herself, as if she had found parts unknown in her flesh. Was this not the music she had been seeking for so long? At any rate, she has developed a taste for it. A strong sensation that opens new landscapes. And grows stronger in the night. A wild fire in the dense forest of her body. For so long she had been searching for a note she couldn’t find, for so long she had been looking for a secret in the depths of her flesh that would help her embrace her essence. What did the leaves whisper to rouse her in such a way?
One paw in the air, then the other. Panther-queen sails on a sensual wave, she dances without inhibition, as if she were in an endless savannah. Wrapped in the fragrance of pleasure. Her body propelled by the stars, she awakens to the night.
Panther-queen displays new moves, dances madly. She leaves the Petite Ceinture railway line and takes to the streets. Her skin is slowly stirred by a scent and irradiates the darkness. Her body unfolds, is freed, as she choreographs a solar ballet in the night. A car drives by and she jumps on top to continue her show. Red light. She hops down. Continues on her way, as her scent wafts all around. Panther-queen dances, and her waltz lights up the face of Paris. She scatters vibrations, like something otherworldly come to shake up the city. In her nocturnal wanderings, she comes upon a bear me- diating at the foot the Louvre pyramid. She is captivated by this shape. Neither dome nor glacier. But something that shines, like an ice sculpture. A magical being with an unidentified warmth and smell.
Panther-queen approaches the bear. She starts to dance in front of him, like an invita- tion to take part in her luminous roaming. She prances around the pyramid, making fuller, more sweeping gestures. Charmed by her sway and enthralled by her scent, the bear is pulled into her dance. He bounds up from where he lay, and gradually joins the panther’s sensual performance. Together, they embark on a shared adventure in the night.
