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Translated in English from the article in Londra Notizie 24
written by Silvia Pellegrino. Click here to read the original article.
CHOIN by Mattia Sedda: the Clown, the Buffoon, and the Comic of Art
Spoiler alert!
Mattia Sedda is an artist of the body, of scenic action.
By Silvia Pellegrino - July 31, 2024
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In the first five minutes of his show CHOIN, he magnificently used body language to interpret a piece that, for us millennials, symbolized the transition from adolescence to adulthood: the theme song of What’s My Destiny Dragon Ball. He sang it horribly (and in Italian), exactly as you, the readers, are singing it (whether mentally or out loud) right now. "I know you know it."
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He performed this in front of a diverse audience, half of whom—being non-Italian, not eating Italian food, not speaking Italian, and not living an Italian life—had no idea what was happening. Yet, everyone was fully immersed in this hilarious gag. How was that possible?
The perfect blend of the medieval jester and the comic of the commedia dell'arte
It’s possible because Mattia Sedda, in a contemporary way, embodies the perfect union between the medieval jester and the commedia dell'arte comic. Through his physical performances, which are absolutely non-realistic but feel “real” and never predictable, the clown Sedda moves away from a text-centered and literary theater to rediscover one that is more about presence than representation. Nothing in Sedda’s show, from the attention-seeking T-Rex to the fascist comrade aiming to conquer Leicester Square with pizza and mozzarella (strictly I-T-A-L-I-A-N), seems scripted or premeditated, even though the most surreal gag still feels believable.
This is the key to Mattia Sedda’s performance, and generally, to the comedy of Mattia Sedda, along with a balanced mix of simplicity, rhythm, and precision.
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Being a clown is a very serious matter
Mattia’s provocative and grotesque physicality alternates with gentle movements imbued with a purity that sparks laughter but also evokes a certain nostalgia for the childlike way of doing things.
As children, in fact, the full potential of our bodies reaches its peak, being free from control and inhibition. We are awkwardly spontaneous, more “real than real,” pulling reality along with us and blending it with our imagination, giving it no escape. As adults, we lose this superpower—it’s no longer nurtured and is abandoned. But Mattia has clearly taken care of it, diligently training to keep it alive.
Being a clown, and knowing how to make people laugh, is a very serious matter. Because Mattia Sedda the Buffoon makes us laugh from beginning to end, but Mattia Sedda the Man opens up small cracks here and there, making us reflect on how being a migrant, trying to “fit” into a rotten society, or no longer recognizing ourselves in our own gestures isn’t so “normal” after all.
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Mattia Sedda in CHOIN al Phoenix Arts Club (photo credits Luigi Russo)
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Humility outside the character
After the show, I went to talk with Mattia, and one thing struck me: his humility outside the character. It was as if, after the performance, he donned the role of a good host, making sure everything continued smoothly. I found the same humility in the one line spoken by the female version of Monsieur Hulot, actress Malin Sofia Kvist, who opened Mattia Sedda’s act: “I’m Swedish” – in other words – “by observing my natural and unnatural movements, my perfect musculature serving completely nonsensical actions, you might have wondered who I am and where I come from. Well, I’m Swedish.”
An opening that worked like a trailer before a movie in a cinema hall. You watch it with curiosity while waiting for the show you’ve carefully selected. CHOIN!
Go see it at the Edinburgh Fringe 2024!