a program adorned with a drawing by Picasso and a woodcut by Matisse. The creation of the work takes place under uncertain conditions due to the context of the war. The budget is reduced and the scenery is made of paper. Thérèse's flying breasts were supposed to be represented by helium-filled balloons, but since the gas is reserved for the army, they settle for pressed fabric balls. The director also narrowly avoids a last-minute actor dropout, and without any musicians, Germaine's music cannot be played. Finally, a single pianist, who also handles sound effects, performs the music. The play, which is a sell-out at its performance, has a taste of a Dada evening: already, due to the passionate reactions, the show is as much on stage as it is in the audience. "Journalists [...] shout scandal. [...] The play ends in an indescribable uproar." Another incident occurs when Jacques Vaché, accompanied by Théodore Fraenkel, threatens the audience with a gun. Later, Albert-Birot will doubt the veracity of this anecdote. "The play attracts the wrath of the press, which unleashes itself against Apollinaire as well as against Albert-Birot. It also causes several cubists, including Juan Gris, to distance themselves from Apollinaire. On the other hand, young Louis Aragon, urged on by Albert-Birot, writes a glowing review in SIC. The same year, Albert-Birot publishes his 31 Pocket Poems prefaced by Apollinaire. Unfortunately, Apollinaire dies the following year and the experience of Les Mamelles de Tirésias cannot be repeated. In January of the following year, Albert-Birot dedicates a triple issue of SIC to the memory of Apollinaire, and brings together the funeral tributes of Roger Allard, Louis Aragon, André Billy, Blaise Cendrars, Jean Cocteau, Paul Dermée, Max Jacob, Irène Lagut, Pierre Reverdy, Jules Romains, André Salmon, Tristan Tzara, etc. ″The time of solitude″ ″ [...] with the 30s and after the theater experiments, begins what Albert-Birot calls his time of solitude.″ – Jean Follain Germaine Albert-Birot died in 1931, and the poet of light was forced to don the clothes of mourning. He wrote and printed without an author's name thirty copies of a collection of funeral poems that he dedicated to himself: "My Dead, a sentimental poem." Four "G"s, as a coat of arms, adorned each page. According to the testimony of his friend Jean Follain (whom he met in 1933 and who remained one of his rare friends along with the