THE TAVERN

Half melancholic, half dreamy, his face looks at us directly like a thoughtful witness to these strange transformations. He has an egg-shaped torso. And his legs have become a pair of hollow logs that are held up by boats floating on a black lake. The egg is broken and serves as a tavern for the depraved and the lustful, a grotesque setting for human decadence. Above their heads, a large disc acts as a hat and the improvised dancers dance to the sound of the bagpipes. And with them us, yes, us, with these earrings that are our undoing…