R.O.T.S.

Th-Da. Toméo Vergès. R.O.T.S. SECRET SOLITUDE.
«With R.O.T.S. Toméo Vergès disappoints the critics by not playing into their expectations. This aesthetic shift captures the wound of our "cultivated lives" which try to be intelligent critique and social escapism all in one.
Vergès takes aim at a specific milieu represented here by a set design that has become the international symbol of normality: the retro suburban household and adjoining lawn (in this case, from the 1970s). Thomas' Fernier's spatial sound design does such a good job of recreating the ambient noises of a city, you wonder if the theater doors haven't been left open. These sounds—a highway, an airplane, music, appliances—encapsulate you in a bubble, cutting you off as much from nature as from yourself. The concept of home decorating appears in all its incongruity as a sign of the wealth and humiliation of a culture reduced to outside appearances. The living room, which is worthy of A Clockwork Orange, casts its occupants as uncoordinated puppets, the ghosts of actors frozen in self-consciously photogenic poses.
Toméo Vergès, Éric Domeneghetty, Walter N’Guyen, Régine Westenhoeffer and Isabelle Boutrois inhabit these creatures who are gathered for a social get-together between couples. The fact that they have nothing to say to each other flows logically from their socioeconomic status. If they have time to waste, it must mean they're faring better than some in the free-market war. Seduction and talent are their weapons as actors. The scenes follow like a series of non-sequiturs that list the ideas of their fallow minds. Their bodies, faced with a banal situation, come unhinged in spots, but remain upbeat. They collapse and get up again. They attack and take aim at each other. Unlike Rodrigo Gargia, Toméo Vergès refuses to makes something spectacular out of this social disease that turns bodies into undifferentiated ghosts. He references a time when money seemed to be the key to happiness, and happiness was the key to giving existence meaning. In all its triviality, R.O.T.S. holds a disturbing mirror up to our compromises.

Mari-Mai Corbel, Mouvement.net, January 2004 

R.O.T.S. : Communicate, but also keep quiet
After last year's Pièce(s) détachée(s), choreograph Toméo Vergès offers us a new "unidentifiable object—neither dance nor theater—without any division between the arts."Once again, sensations and emotions win out over unqualified, gushing praise. Definitely disturbing, the show, based on a Don DeLillo novel, strikes a rather unpleasant chord: "What is really behind all the fake happiness, material comforts, busywork, and incessant noise?" With this performance, the dancer-choreographer moves deeper into his favorite territory—an exploration of inner feelings.

Nord Eclair, January 21, 2004

Frenzy and solitude, Toméo Vergès style.
« This group of alienated individuals would rather keep busy than look at themselves or each other. They have chosen to undertake rather than understand. The dancers' bodies in R.O.T.S., Toméo Vergès latest creation, speak of a frenzied, desperate attempt at self-evasion. Sometimes, however, a bit of blue sky breaks through—a moment of astonishment, confusion or silence holds the juggernaut momentarily at bay. These moments of introspection, anxiety, and truth quickly disappear however, and the infernal merry-go-round starts up again. With R.OT.S., Toméo Vergès' dark and often disturbing humor makes a comeback. It would seem that Antonioni and Buñuel have never been far away.

F. Labendzki, La Voix du Nord, January 21, 2004