Robert Lepage's work has always provoked an extreme reaction among theatregoers. So what will they make of his new, diabolically inspired operatic production? "I believe in the Devil, the possibility that you and I could be having a serious conversation, and suddenly the Devil could walk into the room. The conversation would have to stop." It stops anyway. Robert Lepage, the fêted French-Canadian writer, performer and auteur, cackles, a touch demonically, into the conversational void. We're in the bowels of the Barbican, a dressing-room that is eerily, excessively mirrored, which exaggerates his otherworldly appearance. From the age of six, Lepage has suffered from alopecia. Today his wig is a funky, chestnut, elfin affair, but his lack of eyebrows, eyelashes and preternaturally smooth, hairless chin lend him the compelling...
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