The first thing that jumps out at you is their playful complicity. The gesture breathes, it conveys their pleasure. They have fun inventing the acrobatic meanders in which they will intermingle, surprise each other, bicker. It is for fakes, to play, and yet, it is already of a very accomplished finesse and intelligence. Their movements are never forced, the sequences of a fluidity that allows them to bounce non-stop.

It is obviously in this complicity and this pleasure that the first tracks of the history to come will be traced. We notice just after what opposes them. The phlegmatism of one responds to the morbid anxiety of the other. Without trying to excessively caricature their features, it is undoubtedly in their spontaneous way of experiencing things differently that their relationship will be played out.

The distress of one amplifies the nonchalance of the other. It is with each other that they take all their strength, that they lead us into an enjoyable nonsense, into the absurd unreality of unexpected movements.
And this is, in the end, what appears in extremis. When the moment of their release arrives, the public no longer really knows what they took so much pleasure in. The apparent futility of their acrobatic argument hits us hard. They do not seem to measure the futility of their efforts, nor the humor of their controversy. Nothing has more meaning and only takes on more value.

“If your friend limps with his right foot, limps with your left foot”
Renard J, Newspaper, 1906