Zamân or on a le même temps qu’on avait

What if, for one evening, we pretended we were in a jazz club? A place where all manner of disclosures are allowed. A place where time stands still... at last? Zamân [zamɔn] means “time” in Farsi, Hebrew, Arabic, and likely a host of other languages. It's also a show by Mani Soleymanlou that revolves around the precise moment his mother received her diagnosis: brain tumours. Time stretches out as much as it leaps forward, oscillating between memories of the cancer he himself went through and his reflections on family and our perception of time in a world of perpetual acceleration. Zamân, or on a le même temps qu’on avait, marks another of Mani Souleymanlou’s leaps into the void, one as funny as it is poignant. This time, he's joined by the band Valaire to recreate the intimate and relaxed atmosphere of a jazz club. Such is a place conducive to disclosures, where everything can be expressed without restraint. A place where saxophone flourishes or drum solos can replace words, where one feels disconnected from time, where the unexpected can arise at any moment.