The encaged youth

The 2009 British film Fish Tank, directed by Andrea Arnold, depicts the life of a fifteen-year old girl, Mia, who lives in a suburb in Essex, UK. Savage and untamed, Mia hates her mother, Joanne, her sister, Tyler, college and the other teenagers of her suburb. Feeling excluded of her social circle and of the life in general, she finds comfort in hip-hop music and dance, that she secretly practices in abandoned flats. Her social exclusion leads her to sympathise with Billy, a young gypsy who lives on a camp near her building. In parallel, she develops an ambivalent relationship with her mother’s lover, Connor, who turns out to be a married man who abuses Mia and her mother. Disappointed in her dancing ambitions, let down by her mother and facing Connor’s depravity, the young girl finally decides to flee from her stuffy suburb with Billy, in direction of Wales.

Described as the proper successor of Ken Loach, Andrea Arnold aims at showing the reality of the life in English suburbs and the struggles of the youth. In this film, she uses figures of animals to show how the suburb, and more generally the society, encage the people and suffocate them. From the title, we understand that Mia lives breathlessly and goes around in circles like a fish in a tank, instead of living a fulfilled life. In the beginning of the film, she meets a caged white horse who seems to be abandoned, and tries to free him. Also, during a walk by a river with her family, Connor shows to Mia how to catch a fish barehands. After holding it for a second, the fish escapes from Connor’s hands. This scene sounds like a prediction for Mia: she has to escape from Connor’s hands, otherwise she will end suffering and being kept under control.

Fish Tank actually deals with the struggle of the youth on how to avoid imprisonment committed by peers and society in general. In this hopeless neighborhood, the final solution for Mia seems to be escaping from England and trying to find a better life somewhere else.

I didn’t even know it was possible to put so much clichés in one film in 2018

Don’t get me wrong: I’m a huge fan of everything that deals with teenage dreams and despairs. I have loved films such as Virgin Suicides (Sofia Coppola, 1999), Submarine (Richard Ayoade, 2011), Little Miss Sunshine (Jonathan Dayton, Valerie Faris, 2006) or The Perks of Being a Wallflower (Stephen Chbosky, 2012). I have binge watched Malcolm in the Middle, My Mad Fat Diary, Skins or Misfits way too many times than what it is socially acceptable to admit. Thus, I’m speaking out today without any condescendent point of view or intentions regarding this kind of works, that are too often considered as puerile or superficial.

That being said, I now have to admit that I have been extremely disappointed by Lady Bird, the overly rewarded film directed by Greta Gerwig in 2018. Attracted by this movie presented as a pure comedy-drama about an atypical young girl, I was expecting to watch a feel-good movie with sweet and sour characters and dialogues with a sharp sense of humor. I however went out of the cinema with an aftertaste of disappointment and the feeling that I will no longer remember this film in two days.

It is actually complicated to clearly determined in what Lady Bird fails to be a good movie. I have this strange and frustrating feeling that all the ingredients were gathered to make the perfect chocolate cake, but in the end, the cook has preferred to try and bake a strawberry flavored cheesecake. My comparison may seem clumsy, but will never be as much clumsy as what Greta Gerwig did with her movie. I think the main problem of this work is its ambivalence towards the teenage clichés that are like milestones in movies dealing with young adults’ joys and fears. Presented as a non-standard person, the main character Christine « Lady Bird » actually accumulates all the most basic stereotypes linked to her age and condition: she refuses her mother’s authority, she let her best friend down to be accepted by the popular teens, and she fells in love with both the blonde nice guy and the dark-haired rebel-with-too-many-causes.

Christine “Lady Bird” McPherson and Kyle Scheible, played by Saoirse Ronan and Timothée Chalamet

Actually, let’s talk about these lovers: is it possible to write some more caricatural characters than them? The first one, Danny O’Neill, is a wealthy and adorable Irish Catholic who has a huge family and who wears beige pants. Unfortunately for Christine, she finds him hard kissing a boy in the toilets, which instantly breaks her heart. Speaking about love pains is something that must appear in a good teenage movie, but the way that Danny’s homosexuality is presented really disturbs me, because it comes out (as to say) from nowhere! In a scene Lady Bird and Danny are the happiest and cutest couple ever, and without any transition she finds him fornicating in the men’s toilets.

Christine “Lady Bird” McPherson and Danny O’Neill, played by Saoirse Ronan and Lucas Hedges

Another really frustrating character in Lady Bird is Julie Steffans, who is Christine’s best friend. Even if she seems to be a really kind and interesting person, she is only presented through the prism of the « Three F » features: friend of the hero, fat and funny. Seriously, the cliché of the fat-however-funny-and-naive girl is so seen and reviewed while being so deeply rooted in the sexist stereotypes that it is a pity to find it in a 2018 movie again! If Gerwig wanted to put a chubby character in her film so bad, why not make it the main character? Or at least, while sticking to the old fashion of the fat-and-funny girl, why not develop this character and make her overcome her permanent condition ?

Christine “Lady Bird” McPherson and Julie Steffans, played by Saoirse Ronan and Beanie Feldstein

Though I didn’t get into the story because of the bad writing of the characters -except for the mother, Marion McPherson played by the amazing Laurie Metcalf- I have to admit that Lady Bird is served by an amazing photography. The colors and the landscapes of the California are perfectly filmed, and render a very emotional and powerful vision of Sacramento, Lady Bird’s hometown. The visual beauty of the movie makes my disappointment and feeling of unfulfilment even worse, because I am sure that, with a little more efforts on the writing of the characters, Lady Bird could have won its place on my « cool teenage films to watch when you feel down and need a shot of beautiful melancholy and artificial human warmth » list. Unfortunately, this movie now rather belongs to my « films that had everything to be great but turned out to be flawed, if not totally catastrophic » list, next to The Greatest Showman (Michael Gracey, 2017) and Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets (Luc Besson, 2017).

La princesse retrouvée

Le vendredi 16 février 2018, nous avons pu assister au Nouveau Théâtre de Montreuil à une conférence-spectacle intitulée À la recherche de la Princesse de Montpensier, menée par la compagnie La Subversive.

Ce spectacle met en scène quatre femmes, Aurore Evain à la mise en scène et qui tient le poste de conférencière, Anne Cosmao au jeu, Amal Allaoui au chant et Marie Langlet au luth théorbe et à la guitare. Alternant les genres et les discours, ces femmes explorent la première œuvre de Madame de La Fayatte, La Princesse de Montpensier. Publiée en 1662, cette nouvelle annonce le chef d’œuvre de Madame de La Fayette La Princesse de Clèves, paru en 1678 et ouvrage fondateur pour la littérature française du XVIIè siècle. Cependant, contrairement à cette dernière, la Princesse de Montpensier est tombée dans l’oubli et demeure aujourd’hui trop méconnue, bien que faisant partie du matrimoine littéraire français.

Partant de l’affligeant constat que la littérature écrite par des femmes en France est systématiquement soit méprisée, soit oubliée, les quatre artistes de La Subversive mettent en œuvre tous leurs talents pour réhabiliter l’une des plus grandes autrices françaises. Ainsi, le spectacle présente Madame de La Fayette au public, et en dresse un portrait flatteur et complice. Comtesse parisienne née en 1634 et morte en 1693, Marie-Madeleine de Lafayette se distingue par son ingéniosité et son talent pour l’écriture. Fine observatrice des mœurs de la petite noblesse et habituée des mondanités parisiennes, La Fayette écrit sur des personnes de son entourage, et s’inspire de ce qu’elle vit pour écrire ses livres, précurseurs du roman moderne.

La compagnie La Subversive propose une déambulation rythmée par les mélodies de Amal Allaoui dans la vie et l’œuvre de La Fayette, tout en élargissant le débat à la question de la présence (ou ici, l’absence) des femmes autrices dans les programmes scolaires et dans la mémoire collective en France. Sans jamais verser dans la plainte, ces artistes recourent plutôt aux interrogations et à la révolte face à cette injustice perpétrée depuis des siècles envers les femmes qui écrivent. Aurore Evain éclaire cette question de son œil d’historienne et livre une analyse complète des raisons et des mécanismes qui poussent une société à taire la moitié de son patrimoine culturel, qu’elle nomme très justement le « matrimoine ». En écho à la violence des combines amoureuses de la cour subies par la Princesse de Montpensier, ce spectacle expose la violence de traitement infligée à l’œuvre de La Fayette par les critiques d’hier et d’aujourd’hui, la plupart du temps avec pour seul justification l’appartenance de Madame de La Fayette au genre féminin.

À la recherche de la Princesse de Montpensier est donc un spectacle riche qui offre plusieurs perspectives autour d’une œuvre bien malheureusement oubliée. Si le spectacle gagnerait à être encore un peu retravaillé - quelques longueurs et hésitations méritent un peu de peaufinage- l’ensemble réussit brillamment le pari d’être instructif, divertissant et militant.

illustration représentant Madame de La Fayette

The redo of the “Positif” mock-up

During three months this year, we have had to redo the mock-up of the magazine Positif, revue de cinéma. After a detailed analysis, each one of us had to chose a graphic and typographic bias, and build up a complete mock-up that needed to be coherent, well thought-out and of course respectful of the graphic charter we had created.

My intentions regarding Positif were to reaffirm its authority status in the world of written film critics.

In order to create a visual effect of authority and unwavering legitimacy, I decided to use only one typeface. I chose the Coranto 2 typeface, created by Gerard Unger from TypeTogether, for its elegant yet original forms. Joyful and dynamic, I thought this typeface would perfectly summarize the intellectual atmosphere of Positif, without creating an impression of severity. I tried to use it in only a few different sizes, in order not to create too many reading levels. Indeed, my will was to give credit to the readers and reaffirm their expert status, and I tried not to infantilize them through too many reading facilities.

Historically, authority in graphic arts is embodied by centered text. It refers to the ancient Greek columns and frontispieces and, later, to texts as the Déclaration des droits de l’homme. Thus, I reused this graphic code in my mock-up, with huge centered titles. Even the photographs are centered. Speaking about images, my bias was not to alter them in cropping them or making them too small in the magazine. On the contrary, I chose the photographs very carefully and tried to give the reader enough space to enjoy them.

In order to break down what could have been perceived as contempt for the reader, I decided to introduce vivid colors in my mock-up, in order to bring some joy in it.

« and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil, for thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory, forever »

Last week-end, during a wandering in the old town of Rennes, my friends and I stumbled upon a beautiful and impressive cathedral: Saint-Pierre de Rennes. Attracted by its delicate yet powerful grey facade, we decided to enter the building to discover more about this intriguing place.

Saint-Pierre de Rennes’ architecture brings together several historical style. Its location was a place for religious edifices since the VIth century, but the current cathedral is obviously not so ancient. It seems that it first was a place occupied by a sanctuary, which was totally replaced by a gothic church in the XIIth century. In 1490 though, the tower and the occidental facade partially crumbled, and this incident initiated some huge renovation works, that lasted 163 years and led to the current classical granite facade. However, in 1754 during a church service, a large rock detached from the choir’s vault, and urged the local religious organisations to initiate a rebuilding of the edifice, in order to prevent a total meltdown of the place. Excepted the recent and solid facade, the whole construction was demolished and rebuilt. Nevertheless, the reconstruction of a cathedral is far from a sinecure, and it took Saint-Pierre de Rennes 89 years to be finally done. Thus, the neoclassical cathedral with a classical facade that was inaugurated in 1844 is the latest version of the building, and we can now enjoy its beautiful architecture.

The facade of the cathedral

The main striking aspect of Saint-Pierre de Rennes’ architecture, to me, is its contrast between austerity and magnificence. This balance is noticeable from the beginning, due to its quite unusual facade. Its proportions are surprising, as the edifice seems very narrow and sleek. The horizontal and vertical forces are very strong, along the straight lines that structure the facade. The impression given is ambivalent, torn between the grey and almost bare granite surface and the enormous and decorated stained-glass window.

Crossing the main door, which is also very imposing still quite raw, the inside of he church is worth the peek. The nave is decorated with dark brown wooden furnitures, assorted to the huge maroon columns. In the central alley and the side hallways plunged in darkness, the atmosphere is peaceful and quiet, all dedicated to the rise and the rest of the soul. This impression of self-reflection is totally counteracted by the splendor of the choir. Topped by a gigantic golden dome that opens up directly to the sky, the choir is highly decorated in gold and vibrant red. Facing the audience, a massive painting representing Jesus Christ and his disciples seems to indicate that the Christ is the true master of the mess -and that he is the only one we have to listen to and follow. Completely out of human proportions, the inside of the cathedral is overwhelming and remarkable, and easily plunges us in a state of devotion and admiration. Last but not least, the enormous lustrous organ faces the painting of the Messiah, delivering the sacred music with all the strength of its multiple pipes into the edifice -and the heart of the faithful.

The choir of the cathedral

Although I define myself as a hard-ass atheist, seeing a place of such grandioseness and beauty is always moving and impressing. Saint-Pierre de Rennes is a good example of an edifice that has been modified throughout the years, and this traces of the past are also part of the charm of the place.

Le monde fantasmagorique de Edward Carey

Le fils spirituel de Charles Dickens et Tim Burton: voilà le fascinant et fictif arbre généalogique de Edward Carey. Né « lors d’une tempête de neige en avril » en 1970, Carey est un Anglais métamorphe, tour à tour dramaturge, écrivain ou dessinateur, ce drôle de poète est l’auteur de deux romans traduits dans treize pays (L’observatoire en 2002 et Alva & Irva en 2003, tous deux parus chez Phébus).

En 2014, il publie (toujours chez Phebus), le premier opus de sa fresque fantasmagorique Les Ferrailleurs: Le Château. Sur fond de ressemblance historique -le Londres pestilentiel de 1860 décrit par Carey ressemble étrangement au Londres pestilentiel de l’ère industrielle-, Carey met en scène une société difforme et infâme, régie par la famille des Ferrayor. Maîtres et maîtresses de leur immense manoir se dressent au milieu d’une gigantesque marée de détritus, la protubérante famille Ferrayor a construit son empire sur l’exploitation et le traitement des déchets émanant de Londres et sa banlieue insalubre « Fetidborough ». Exploitant jour comme nuit les travailleurs - hommes, femmes et enfants- le manoir-usine est aussi un lieu d’habitat pour les Ferrayor, logés aux étages les plus hauts, tandis que les salles des usines sont reléguées aux étages inférieurs, sous le niveau de la mer d’ordures.

La mer d’ordures par-dessus laquelle règne le Château des Ferrayor, dessin à l’encre de Chine et au crayon par Edward Carey

Dans l’univers nauséabond dont Carey est le démiurge, les humains emportent partout avec eux leur objet fétiche, qui va de la bonde d’évier, au chausse-pied, en passant par le filet à cheveux. En effet, dans ce monde étrange, humains et objets cohabitent et sont intimement liés. Par un dépassement de la métaphore, les humains sont objectifiés, transformés au gré de la volonté des Ferrayor. Une fois chosifiés, ils deviennent l’objet fétiche d’un humain et ne peuvent être séparés de lui qu’au prix de grandes souffrances.

Carey signe une œuvre chorale où chaque chapitre présente un nouveau personnage qui laisse entendre sa voix, parfois grinçante, triste, naïve ou malsaine. Dans cet accumulent d’objets, le héros Clod Ferrayor va tenter de comprendre la société dans laquelle il vit et, grâce à son bon cœur et sa nature douce peu habituels pour un Ferrayor, tenter de rendre leur liberté aux âmes errantes qui peuplent les chambres, les placards, les rues de toute la ville sous la forme d’un monstrueux bric-à-brac.

Fantasmagorie excentrique et illuminée, Le Château ressemble à un étrange rêve éveillé, à la fois très loin et très proche de notre réalité par la violence et l’absurdité du monde décrit. Porté par une plume poétique et surprenante, ce tome 1 préfigure une trilogie fascinante, dont on a hâte de découvrir la suite. Pour ne rien gâcher, les illustrations de l’auteur émaillent le livre au fil des pages, et renforcent la puissance du voyage au cœur de la fascinante et horrifique réalité parallèle finement ciselée par Carey.

The meaning of colours

The La La Land movie released by Damien Chazelle in 2017 was great, no doubts about it. Everything about it was perfectly executed, from the actors play to the costumes and the music, even if there is a clear lack of representation of Black persons for a movie that deals with jazz music in the USA.

However, La La Land is a beautiful story and a great lesson of cinema. Actually, the work provided on the setups and the costumes is impressive and a big part of the story. Damien Chazelle and his team perfectly understood that colors are some determining elements when it comes to feelings and emotions. Moreover, colors can have a narrative role and enable the spectator to reach a second degree narration. How did the makers of La La Land embrace the importance of colors to create this rich and striking movie?

La La Land is the story of two characters, Mia and Sebastian, who aim to achieve their dreams in Los Angeles. She wants to be an actress and he dreams to own his jazz club. They will love and support each other, trying to live their dream life, and struggling to combine their personal ambitions with their will to be together.

This movie is divided in the four seasons and opens on the Winter. In this part, the characters are wearing color-block clothes. From the heroes to the background characters, the palette of the colors of clothing is very frank and saturated. The simplicity of these colors refers to the simplicity of the heroes’ dreams. Moreover, it creates a visual effect of unrealness, that reinforces the idea that these dreams are rather fantasies than effective projects.

During the Winter, Mia is wearing a lot of dark blue. This color obviously refers to the cold season, and figures frozen water, something that is asleep, like a night sky waiting to be lit up by the dawn. When to movie begins, Mia is actually serving coffees in Hollywood, and failing the auditions she attends. This standby step is overcame during the Spring, were the emblematic color of Mia becomes the yellow. As a blossoming flower, she reaches to her dreams. This warmer color symbolises her dynamism and her bright personality, that is particularly shown when she meets Sebastian. It is interesting to see that during her auditions, she is wearing multiples colors, always trying to change herself in order to please her audience.

Mia, embodied by Emma Stone, is wearing a vibrant blue dress, next to her roommates who are all wearing color-block dresses too

For Sebastian, Winter and Spring are the parts where he is looking for his true self. At the beginning of the movie, he is wearing dull and sad colors, as he is currently depressed by his inability to play the music he wants. He is actually employed in a restaurant, forced to play flat classical pieces instead of jazz. He is gradually starting to wear white shirts and dark suits. White obviously refers to the purity of his dream and his uncompromising view of art. It is also the color that contains all the colors, as long as his range of possibilities is wide open and that he still doesn’t know who he is.

The night when they fall in love with each other, Mia is wearing a yellow dress and Sebastian, embodied by Ryan Gosling, is wearing is emblematic black and white look

With the coming of Summer, colors offer a visual explosion, accorded to the explosion of feelings encountered by Mia and Sebastian. However, things have became more complex and less phantasmagorical. Indeed, some clothes are now made with patterns and the colors are no more exclusively solid. This subtile change is also expressed into some dresses Mia is wearing that are less bright than during the first two parts. For exemple, she is wearing a red dress during a dance scene with Sebastian, but this red is not as explosive as it would have been in Spring, and it seems a bit vanished. Before the narration starting to be sadder, spectators can already catch some disturbing clues on the following part.

During Summer and Autumn, Mia is no longer represented by a color. As she is now into the reality, with the writing and the playing of her theater piece, she needs to try new things, and her life is way more fragmented. This fragmentation is represented by the patterns she is wearing, where all the colors are mixed. Slowly but surely, the palette of her clothe slides toward the two most radical colors: black and white. This radicalisation reaches its peek during the fight scene with Sebastian, where they both wear dark clothing.

The two heroes are wearing white clothes

Sebastian is also wearing a lot of black, because he is mourning his dreams and pure vision of music. He is indeed playing in a pop band, where he hates the style of music and the concerts that they are playing. However, like a last piece of hope, he is wearing a yellow tie during the beautiful scene of the one-on-one meal with Mia, that seems like a melancholic echo of their meeting. The presence of black and white and more faded colors expresses the difficulties and disillusions of the real life the characters have to face. However, some hope lasts through some luminous details.

If La La Land offers such a large palette of feelings to the spectator, it can be explained by an addition of subtle details, that create very powerful and intense atmospheres throughout the movie. The treatment of the colors may be one of these perfectly executed subtleties.

Virginie Despentes n’a peur de rien

Incroyable inversion de courbe: en l’espace de deux deux ans, Virginie Despentes est passée du statut de l’écrivaine trash boudée des médias à celui de l’auteure française la plus en vogue du moment. Les raisons pour lesquelles elle est aujourd’hui invitée partout sont les mêmes qui, quelques années auparavant, incitaient les auditeurs et journalistes à la méfiance: sa dégaine de bonhomme, sa voix grave et traînante, son manque apparent d’envie de plaire et son image sulfureuse de féministe porno-punk.

Virginie Despentes

Virginie Despentes doit cette explosion de popularité à sa dernière œuvre, la trilogie Vernon Subutex. Radioscopie de la société contemporaine, cette série explore dans les moindres détails le monde actuel à travers le regard de l’anti-héros Vernon. Ancien disquaire reconverti malgré lui en sans-domicile-fixe, Vernon se laisse porter dans le courant de la vie, d’appartements en maisons, et croise une farandole de personnages tous différents les uns des autres, archétypaux mais jamais -ou presque- caricaturaux. Ces livres-chorales sont le support à la fois des portraits entremêlés et d’intrigues haletantes, au rythme irrégulier et surprenant. Chez Despentes, les stars du cinéma français côtoient des SDF parisiens, les banlieusards rencontrent d’anciennes stars du X et des jeunes punkettes se lient avec des trentenaires dépressifs.

Ce défilé de personnages hauts en couleur est sublimé par l’écriture incisive et nette de Despentes. Grande praticienne du roman punk, elle manie depuis toujours des thèmes durs et violents avec une écriture affutée comme un direct du droit. Dès son premier roman, Baise-moi, paru en 1993 chez Florent Massot, Despentes met en scène des personnages paumés, largués, en guerre contre la société contemporaine qui les passe au rouleau compresseur de ses normes violentes. En dénonçant sans jamais être moralisatrice, Despentes confronte ses personnages au viol, à la pauvreté, à la drogue ou à la dépression, mais aussi l’amour des autres, de soi-même, de la vie.

La série Vernon Subutex contient tous les ingrédients chers à Despentes et permet, grâce au format en trois tomes, un déploiement étendu des univers et des personnages. Inscrite dans le contexte actuel, la narration emprunte beaucoup au réel. On retrouve l’évocation des attentats de Charlie Hebdo, de ceux du 13 novembre 2015, mais aussi des lieux connus comme le parc des Buttes Chaumont de Paris. Ce fort ancrage dans des contextes réels, couplé au style brut et direct de l’auteure, fait de ses romans des tableaux réalistes dans lesquels chacun peut se retrouver. Cet attachement au réel rend extrêmement étrange la conclusion de Despentes. Elle clôture en effet sa série sur un dernier chapitre apocalyptico-futuriste, dans lequel le monde tel qu’elle nous l’a décrit durant trois tomes n’existe plus, et où l’univers a sombré dans un modèle digne d’un roman de science-fiction. Pantoise devant ce revirement de ton et de narration, j’ai tout d’abord pris cette conclusion comme une mauvaise blague, une faute de goût balancée à la face du lecteur. Cependant, je crois trop dans le talent de Despentes et j’ai lu trop de romans d’elle pour me satisfaire de cette explication-là. Et si ce dernier chapitre était un pied de nez malicieux, une cabriole finale dans laquelle Despentes semble dire « n’attendez pas que je sois là où vous m’imaginez »? Elle connaît trop bien le goût du rejet et le sentiment d’être une paria pour être dupe de sa gloire récente, et, plutôt que de coller à son image de romancière à succès, préfère éclater la fin de sa « grande œuvre » à coup de délire littéraire débridé.

A la fin de Vernon Subutex, Despentes semble nous adresser un conseil à peine voilé, celui de ne pas trop se prendre au sérieux, de tout envoyer chier si on le veut. Malgré la gloire, malgré les interviews, malgré la reconnaissance, Virginie Despentes semble avoir conservé son âme de punkette énervée prête à tout envoyer aux quatre vents à la moindre occasion, pour la beauté du geste, pour le désir de liberté.

That Time (among many others) When Serge Gainsbourg Revolutionized French Music

On the 24th March of 1971, the album Histoire de Melody Nelson by Serge Gainsbourg was released by Philips Music. Although this album was a commercial fail at that time (its sales only reached 71 400 copies), it is nowadays considered as a corner stone of French and international music. The French audience was surely not prepared for this cutting-edge album. Actually, the popular French musics of the early 1970’s were a mix of naive love songs sang by who are now called the « chanteurs à minettes », like Mike Brant or Alain Chamfort. Looking at the most successful hits of these years, you will find plenty of sappy titles such as Si tu savais combien je t’aime by Christian Adam (1973) or Fan de toi by Michel Delpech (1970). Thus, we can easily understand why the troubled and depraved relationship between a fifteen year old British girl and an old French guy, which is exposed in this album, was not exactly what people expected to listen to. How did this album passed from a fail to the fourth best French rock album of all times according to the magazine Rolling Stones?

Histoire de Melody Nelson is what is called a « concept-album ». Music historians attribute the genesis of this new kind of album to jazz musicians such as John Coltrane with Afer Midnight (1957) or Miles Davis with Bitchies Brew (1970). It was then adopted and enhanced by rock artists such as Bob Dylan with Blonde on Blonde (1966) or the Beatles with Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band (1967). This new genre of composing music is an album which is built like a novel, or at least a story, where all the titles of the album are linked together and evolve around common themes. Thus, concept-albums often include settings and characters who interact together and evolve. This way to write melodies was innovative in modern music because, at that time, this kind of narrative construction was only to be found in classical operas. What is very powerful with the idea of concept-albums is that it can be applied to any genre of music and knows no boundaries regarding the musical style or production.

In Histoire de Melody Nelson, we follow a male character, whom voice is incarnated by Serge Gainsbourg himself. This character hits a young girl riding a bike -incarnated by the graceful and heart-breaking Jane Birkin- with his Rolls Royce. Here is the dramatic opening of their disturbing romance. As the songs go by, the main character starts to regret what Melody makes him do, and sometimes drowns in madness because of his love for her. In the end, he lost her in a plane crash. All along the album, Gainsbourg depicts a violent and forbidden love story, which could only conclude on a dramatic end. This story was obviously far from the sentimental themes treated in French pop music in that time.

Jane Birkin in Melody’s role

One of the reasons this album was misunderstood by the French audience was the foreign codes and references it convoques. Histoire de Melody Nelson obviously explores the nabokovian figure of the nymphet, which is now a recurrent scheme and has been explored by many artists. Althought, at that time this reference was not shared by most of the population. Flirting with tabous like pedophilia, prostitution or drugs, the story of Melody Nelson had the potential to be what we call today a « bad buzz » and gain censorship like Lolita did when it was published by Gallimard in France in 1959. However, Gainsbourg’s album was just ignored.

book cover by Penguin Books for Lolita, by Nabokov

It can be explained by its kind of elitist compositions. Actually this album does not fit in the general standards of pop songs, which last between two and four minutes. In this album, Gainsbourg felt free to create some seven-minute-long songs, which do not follow the pop musical construction in alternate verses and chorus. Also, Gainsbourg does not really sing in this album, he rather recites long texts full of metaphors on death, love and life. The depth of these texts surely doesn’t help to make this album more accessible, but this is what makes it such a masterpiece of poetry. Histoire de Melody Nelson is also seen as a musical masterpiece thanks to its lyrical and jazzy arrangements. The strange mix created by the strings assemble and the electrical bass evolving together in obsessive and tormented melodies gives a mysterious and fascinating character to this album.

Although his intentions were misunderstood when he released his album, Gainsbourg definitely achieved something new in French music with Histoire de Melody Nelson. Above all, he introduced France to the concept-albums, which are now recurrent in the French musical landscape

L’épouse, la méchante et la putain du futur

En septembre 2017 est sorti le film Blade Runner 2049, réalisé par Dennis Villeneuve. Ce film est la suite du film Blade Runner de Ridley Scott sorti en 1982, qui était lui-même une adaptation de la nouvelle Les androïdes rêvent-ils de moutons électriques? de l’auteur culte de science-fiction Philip K. Dick.

Le film de Ridley Scott suivait le parcours de Rick Deckard, incarné par Harrison Ford, ancien policier reconverti en chasseur de “replicants”. Ces derniers sont des androïdes crées par et à l’image de l’Homme et utilisés dans plusieurs domaines, notamment le domaine militaire. Les “Blade Runners”, dont Rick Deckard fait partie, sont missionnés pour supprimer les replicants ayant contrevenu aux lois humaines en allant trop loin dans l’indépendance et l’humanisation. Ce film interroge la notion d’humanité en testant ses limites et ses caractéristiques. Le film Blade Runner 2049 suit l’officier K, incarné par Ryan Gosling, replicant aussi converti en Blade Runner, dans sa quête d’identité. L’officier K va rencontrer Rick Deckard, et ensemble ils vont tenter de retrouver l’enfant miraculeux de ce dernier. Miraculeux en effet, car les replicants sont par nature stériles. L’existence de cet enfant, fruit de l’union de deux replicants, ferait alors entrer la société de 2049 dans un nouveau rapport de force entre « vrais humains » et humanoïdes, en donnant les armes aux replicants de se rebeller contre la domination humaine et de réclamer une existence indépendante et libre.

Blade Runner 2049 est une bonne surprise au premier abord. Porteur de très lourdes attentes, ce film continue l’histoire de Rick Deckard de manière intéressante en intégrant de nouveaux personnages très bien écrits (l’officier K est captivant dans son parcours initiatique). De plus, le spectacle visuel et auditif offert par ce film est littéralement à couper le souffle.

Cependant, la qualité de l’ensemble est gâchée par les schémas sexistes usés à la corde que Villeneuve convoque. En effet, la représentation féminine dans les œuvres de science fiction est presque toujours de l’ordre du cliché, voire du sexisme pur, et Blade Runner 2049 manque plusieurs occasions de détourner intelligemment ces clichés pour servir le propos du film.

En effet, Villeneuve ne choisit pas de montrer ces discriminations sexistes pour les dénoncer. Au contraire, l’écriture des personnages féminins est parasitée par des schémas sociaux profondément ancrés dans les codes de la société patriarcale.

Ana de Armas incarne Joi, épouse-hologramme universelle et parfaite

Ainsi, dans le monde de 2049, les femmes sont soit des putains, soit des épouses-hologrammes, soit des personnes cruelles et foncièrement mauvaises. La figure de l’épouse-hologramme, Joi, incarnée par Ana de Armas, aurait été une occasion de dénoncer la pauvreté sentimentale dans laquelle l’hyper-consommation pousse les citoyens, en leur proposant littéralement d’acheter une compagne. Un parallèle aurait pu être établi entre cette vision extrêmement stéréotypée de « l’ange du logis » et les vraies femmes, humaines ou replicant, à la construction intellectuelle beaucoup plus complexe, donc bien plus intéressante. Cependant, Villeneuve fait le choix étrange de valoriser Joi, en la rendant plus parfaite qu’aucune femme ne puisse l’être. La relation entre K et Joi est en effet montrée sous un jour romantique et empathique, seule véritable histoire d’amour sincère montrée à l’écran. Or, il est impossible d’oublier que Joi est un produit dont le succès commercial repose sur la misère sentimentale de millions de citoyens -d’ailleurs, quid des époux-hologrammes, dont l’absence laisse penser que les femmes de 2049 n’ont pas de besoin sentimental ou affectif? Les prostituées sont aussi montrées comme un groupe social important. Ici aussi l’idée est bonne, et aurait été une manière de montrer que dans ce monde violent, les femmes arrivent malgré tout à se réunir et à être puissantes avec les seuls moyens dont elles disposent: leurs corps. Cependant, la figure de la putain est seulement  envisagée sous le prisme des besoins sexuels masculins, pour montrer à quels points ceux-ci sont complexes et profonds, et ne se satisfont pas si facilement de ces ersatz de femmes. La représentation des femmes ennemies est aussi problématique au vu de la violence exprimée envers ces personnages. Le traitement réservé à Luv, interprétée par Sylvia Hoeks et bras droit du tout-puissant Neander Wallace, joué par Jared Leto, est assez difficile à supporter. A l’issue d’une très longue scène de lutte entre Luv et K, ce dernier finit par tuer la replicant. Que des personnages féminins soient montrés comme foncièrement mauvais et soient tués à l’écran participe du bon équilibre entre les genres au sein de la fiction, cependant la violence avec laquelle ce personnage meurt s’explique difficilement. Villeneuve nous gratifie de très longues secondes en plan rapproché sur le visage révulsé de Luv, à grand renfort de gargouillis et d’yeux ensanglantés. La lieutenant Joshi, interprétée par Robin Wright, subit elle aussi une mort douloureuse. Cette violence est renforcée par le traitement héroïque et glorieux réservé a contrario aux morts masculines, qui semblent elles mériter plus d’hommages et moins d’acharnement.

Mackenzie Davis incarne la prostituée Mariette

L’implacable Luv incarnée par Sylvia Hoeks

Enfin, le plus grand écueil dans lequel Villeneuve saute à pieds joints reste pour moi le développement du personnage de la docteure Ana Stelline, interprétée par Carla Juri. Condamnée à rester cloitrée dans une bulle de verre à cause d’une grave maladie, cette jeune fille possède des pouvoirs hors normes. Elle incarne la figure récurrente en science-fiction de l’enfant prodige. Or, elle est l’enfant de Deckard, celle que tout le monde recherche pour pouvoir l’utiliser ou la détruire. En la gardant littéralement sous cloche, Villeneuve fait d’elle un personnage-trophée autour duquel tout tourne, sans lui donner plus de quelques minutes à l’écran. On peut arguer que Ana aura un rôle important dans la suite du film, mais je trouve extrêmement dérangeant d’avoir crée un personnage aussi puissant pour le garder loin de l’action et ne le développer qu’au travers de la figure du père (la scène des retrouvailles familiales crée d’ailleurs un drôle d’écho avec un certain opus 7 d’une autre saga culte de SF dans laquelle Harrison Ford joue aussi le rôle du père…).

En 2017, je pense que nous pouvons attendre plus de réflexion autour du traitement des femmes de la part de toutes les personnes qui créent des histoires. S’il est possible d’écrire un rôle aussi beau et puissant que celui de K, il doit être possible d’en créer de semblables pour les personnages féminins. En revenant toujours au mêmes figures féminines et en ne sachant pas créer des personnages de femmes qui ne soient pas manichéens ou clichés, Villeneuve et d’autres ratent l’occasion de créer des œuvres belles, respectueuses pour tous, et qui s’inscrivent dans des valeurs et des ambitions contemporaines.

Bleu Magma or How To Turn A Fail Into Something Good

In September 2017, in our DSAA class, we had the chance to meet the talented Julien Priez for our first workshop. This passionate typewriter introduced us to the art of calligraphy, in order to create a huge wallpainting in our school. Surprisingly, even if the purpose of the workshop was very exciting, the biggest learning of this experience came from a collective fail.

The first step of the project was to familiarize us with the delicate yet powerful calligraphic discipline. We spent a few hours practicing our gesture, trying to find the perfect way to use different tools, such as pencils, markers, or brushes. We fast started to build personal signs, inspired by the gestures we had practice. Julien’s idea was to use these symbols to create a visual twist on a long wall in the backyard of the school. Inspired by the work of Karel Martins, he wanted us to recreate a word thanks to our individual signs. The idea was to play with the distance and the limits of readability. Looking closely to the wall, you would have seen our calligraphic signs, but they would have faded away when you step backwards, leaving the place to the word we had to chose. After a debate, we decided (with Mrs. Dion’s help) to write « bleu magma » on the wall. These words were chosen for their strange yet melancholic poetry.

The first step of the project was to settle down a base of white symbols on which we could create visual effects with some fluorescent blue, red and yellow. Though this first phase was satisfying and seemed to please everyone in the school, we kept on adding colors to achieve our first idea. As layers of colors were added, we started to feel unhappy with this project. The result of what we’ve done was more than far from what we expected, as the symbols were melting all together in a mass of indistinct forms. Instead of the beautiful poetic illusion we figured out, we had created a chaotic wallpainting were our graceful white signs were devoured by the tacky neon colors. As if the disappointment was not big enough, students started to ask us why we had written « Bleu Marine » on the wall. The fail was total.

The DSAA 1 class during the first step of the project: a metaphoric vision.

However, here is the true interest of this project: even though we learnt to trace symbols, which was really interesting, above all we learnt that failing in a project is ok, and that we can always fix it. We often stay focused on the initial plans despite the evidence of the failure. Learning how to recognize a problem and searching how to fix it was a very important part of this project. It was actually the first time in my schooling that a teacher admitted there was such a big problem in a project. Admitting it, we all talked about it and found a solution to build something that we could all be proud about. Moreover, having to face doubt and disappointment together reinforced our cohesion and our will to create a beautiful wallpainting. We finally took the decision to cover the whole wall in black, in order to draw some white signs on it again.

In the Lycée Eugénie-Cotton, there is now a black and white wallpainting. It might seem simple, or even basic, but if you look closely at it, you will see blue, yellow and pink reflections behind the black surface. My inner poet tends to think that they embody the image of what it means to learn, to fail and to progress.

« Dans la forêt profonde et obscure se pressait une foule d’êtres beaux ou laids, gais ou tristes. »

Ecrit par Guillaume Apollinaire et illustré de 12 gravures sur bois par André Derain, L’Enchanteur pourrissant est publié pour la première fois en 1909. Apollinaire y reprend la légende arthurienne de Merlin, le prophète magicien doué de métamorphose, pour y transposer la figure du poète irrémédiablement seul et rejeté.

André Derain, L’Enchanteur pourrissant

Ce conte en prose commence au moment où Merlin, par amour pour Viviane, lui dévoile les secrets magiques et dangereux dont il a le secret, lucide quant au fait qu’elle fera de lui sa première victime. Immanquablement envoûté par Viviane, l’Enchanteur s’étend de son plein gré en son propre tombeau, où, faute d’y mourir car il est immortel, il est destiné à y pourrir pour toujours. Point central du conte, le tombeau du magicien devient le lieu de rendez-vous de nombreuses créatures magiques, démoniaques et charmeuses. Apollinaire y déploie un bestiaire fantastique inspiré des traditions celtes, de la littérature médiévale et des textes bibliques. Tour à tour, les crapauds, sorcières, sphinx, hydres et elfes se relaient au chevet de Merlin, pleurant sa supposée mort, ou s’en félicitant. Cette étendue de personnages permet à Apollinaire d’emprunter plusieurs discours, et d’alterner les points de vue. A travers sa prose envolée et imagée, il donne vie à tous ces êtres magiques et y déploie ses talents de poète, en jouant avec les allitérations et répétitions. Il cisèle les mots entre eux, véritable orfèvre du verbe et de l’adjectif, et prête à ces animaux mythologiques des paroles envoûtantes, où le superbe côtoie le pourrissant. Ce texte est un joyau de finesse, plein d’images ensorcelantes et magiques.

A cette prose envoûtante viennent s’ajouter les gravures de Derain. Réalisées sur du bois, elles amènent de la force au conte. Le trait franc et épais permet au peintre de représenter la « forêt profonde et ancienne » dans tout ce qu’elle a d’oppressant et impénétrable. Derain y place une Viviane dansante, martelant le tombeau de Merlin de ses pieds nus. Ces gravures s’inscrivent dans la série autour de la danse que Derain réalise au tout début du XXe siècle, et dont la pièce principale est une très grande toile intitulée La Danse. Sur celle-ci, trois personnages font la ronde dans une forêt, les chevilles entourées par le corps sinueux d’un gros serpent vert. Il est très probable que Apollinaire ait été inspiré par ces scènes d’étranges célébrations, et ait souhaité illustrer son texte de ces ambiances crépusculaires et fantastiques. Il est intéressant de noter la proximité des références de Derain et Apollinaire, ceux-ci partageant une fascination pour les images bibliques et l’art primitif. Cette concordance des inspirations ne pouvait qu’annoncer une grande complémentarité de leurs travaux, symbiose artistique qui aboutira au livre de dialogue présenté ici-même.

En rendant son personnage principal impuissant car scellé sous la pierre, Apollinaire le présente au travers du discours des autres protagonistes, qui en brossent des portraits très différents. Tragiquement condamné à être gardé loin du monde, injustement incompris de tous ceux qui défilent sur sa pierre, Merlin est celui qui peut tout mais qui ne fait rien. Apollinaire se réapproprie ce mythe de l’homme condamné à être enfermé dans sa solitude car L’Enchanteur, par ses dons magiques et sa manière de voir ce que les autres ne voient pas, devient alors plus qu’un homme: il devient poète, prophète.

Eternellement impuissant face à son destin malgré ses dons, il reste extrêmement lucide de son sort, et se fait l’observateur du monde et de ses créatures.

André Derain, La Danse

“The Realms of the Unreal” or How the creations of Henry Darger have been violated in the name of Art

Two years ago, I visited the exhibition Henry Darger, 1892-1973, at the Musée d’Art Moderne in Paris. Darger is today considered as one of the most prolific member of the « art brut ». Created in 1945 by the french artist Jean Dubuffet, this expression designates any type of artistic production made by non-initiated persons, often people who are mentally ill, retarded or assigned « atypical ». After visiting several psychiatric hospitals, Dubuffet realized many residents were creating images, paintings, objects, whereas they had no artistic culture. Moreover, these people were social outcasts who often lived tortuous lives, hence their brutal and disturbing creations. Art brut became a generic term gathering different types of production. Obviously, the notion of « artist » is crucial in the art brut, because it questions the responsibility of the creator, and its actual will to enter a larger Art History. As long as Darger didn’t want to expose his creations in museums and didn’t consider himself as an artist, do his work has its place in art institutions?

The impressive amount of drawings and writings Henry Darger produced was discovered by his landlord, a few days before Henry passed away. The owner of the small Chicago appartement, that Darger rent for years, was himself an artist, and he immediately understood the value of the treasure his tenant had created for so many years. Indeed, the whole flat was full of drawings, sketches, watercolors and writings, from the ground to the ceiling. Henry also collected and compiled catalogs, leaflets and magazines, in which he picked images that he reused in his creations. This discovery was unexpected, as Henry Darger lived like a semi-homeless person, working at a small restaurant downtown, without friends or family visiting him.

Behind this miserable appearance actually lived a true creator. Darger spent decades building up a complete saga, that he entirely wrote and drew himself. His masterpiece, The Story of the Vivian Girls, in What is known as the Realms of the Unreal, tells the story of the seven Vivian Girls, who flee through the Realms of the Unreal to escape from wars and persecutions committed by adults and military troops. In his compositions, Darger mixes drawings and collages in order to build impressive panoramic views, with a significant sense of details. The exhibit at the Musée d’Art Moderne enabled visitors to see many of these panoramic scenes, and offered a very immersive visit of these alternative landscapes. Visitors could also read chosen manuscripts, and discover the straight forward style of the author. Although Darger didn’t know how to draw or write stories, he found personal techniques to give birth to his dream project. Instead of letting down his need to express himself, he copied drawings in catalogs, cut pieces of illustrations and used simple words to say what he wanted or needed to say.

Nowadays, the creations of Henry Darger have found their place in the History of Art, under the label of art brut. His drawings and writings are considered as masterpieces, exposed all around the world and analyzed by experts and art historians. Being selfish, I can’t help but be glad these incredible creations came to us, because they inspire me, enable me to wander in the incredible Realms of the Unreal, and fight and live beside the Vivian Girls. Nevertheless, it is an established fact that Darger asked his landlord not to expose his drawings and to destroy them. His will was not respected, and his highly intimate work has been violated being showed all over the world. The success encountered by his creations feeds the debate around the notion of art. The probable reason he created this fantastic world was to escape from his horrendous childhood, and find a peaceful place to live in. Must such a touchy and private creation be dissected by strangers and exposed as a conscious work of art? If the creator doesn’t consider himself as an artist, is there anyone in the world who can legitimately decide to erect his work as pieces of art? I personally don’t think so. Art brut is important in the artistic wold because it legitimates outsider creators and values their creations. It also allows more diversity in the closed-circuit world of Art. However, I think consent is essential and must considered as a basic value in every situation. Respecting the will of a dying man should absolutely be more important than sharing his work, even if it has the potential to be a world-wide famous masterpiece.

Thus, even if I consider the drawings of Darger as hauntingly beautiful creations, I don’t think we should keep on exposing and visiting them. As in the drawings where Vivian Girls are torn apart and ripped open by adults, Darger has been violently exposed under the light of galleries by people who think they have some power on his creations because they know Art codes and history.

Réflexion autour de l’excellence

Commençons cet article comme Chris Potter ses concerts: sans préambule.

Accompagné du jeune pianiste James Francies et du batteur Eric Harland, Chris Potter m’a éblouie de son talent ce vendredi 10 novembre, à l’espace Sorano de Vincennes. Considéré à juste titre comme l’un des saxophonistes de jazz les plus brillants de sa génération, il a livré un concert époustouflant, enchaînant sans répit des morceaux intenses et complexes.

Castle and Sun - Paul Klee

Emmenant le public à sa suite à travers des paysages tortueux et merveilleux, le trio dégage une énergie scotchante. Ce soir là, plus que de la comprendre, j’ai senti jusqu’au fond de mes entrailles la différence entre la musique enregistrée et la musique live. Assise au deuxième rang, j’ai reçu cette énergie et cette maîtrise de la musique en pleine face, avec bonheur et sidération. Les regards échangés entre les musiciens, ainsi que leur engagement physique, permettent de s’immerger totalement dans l’univers qu’ils déploient.

J’ai été amenée à me demander si le cerveau humain suffisait à réaliser de telles prouesses, face à la virtuosité des musiciens. N’ont-ils pas quelque chose en plus, qui les distingue du commun des mortels? James Francies m’a particulièrement impressionnée, jonglant entre ses claviers et pianos, les mains virevoltantes, le visage révulsé en expression de jouissance ou de concentration acharnée. Comment ne pas s’incliner et rester ébahie devant tant de grâce, de talent et de maîtrise? Faire face à ces trois maîtres du jazz, c’est voir l’incarnation des notions d’excellence et de dépassement de soi. Aussi, on le sait, l’excellence a un prix, celui d’une vie de travail acharné. Elle amène cependant à celui ou celle qui l’atteint une chose précieuse: la liberté. Lentement, cette réflexion a fait jour en moi, pendant que je suivais ces musiciens sur les sentiers de leur folie créatrice. Car libérés, ces trois musiciens l’étaient. Ils ont amené leur maîtrise de jeu à un tel niveau, qu’ils semblent avoir dépassé les contraintes physiques et techniques de leurs instruments. Ainsi, dans l’atmosphère sombre et troublante de la salle de concert, le trio convoque et utilise des énergies animales et cérébrales, instinctives et travaillées, pures.

Chris Potter, qui a démarré sa carrière professionnelle à l’âge improbable de 13 ans, semble indéniablement au sommet de son art. On peut cependant augurer, au vu de sa carrière et de ce qu’il est capable de donner aujourd’hui lors d’un concert, qu’il n’est pas près de redescendre, et continuera longtemps à explorer des cimes visitées par lui seul.

The Virgin Suicides: a comparison between the book and the movie

The Virgin Suicides is the first novel of the american author Jeffrey Eugenides, published in 1993. In this book, we discover the Lisbon sisters, five girls between 13 and 17 years old: Cecilia, Lux, Bonnie, Mary and Therese. The story of these five young girls killing themselves became really iconic in 1999, after Sofia Coppola released her first movie, the accurate adaptation of the novel. As she wanted to be as close from the original story as possible, we can ask ourselves what is the interest of re-writing a story already available on an other media? What does the creation of a movie bring to the story?

The first answer comes in three letters: Air. The French group produced the soundtrack of the movie. Contrary to a book, a movie offers an auditive aspect, which enables the spectator to dig more deeply into an atmosphere. Although Eugenides spreads musical references in his book, paper has its limits. We can really feel how the creations of Air enhance the melancholic and poetic aura of the sisters. The dreamy melodies, mixing electronic and acoustic instruments, are underlining the ambivalent feelings we catch toward the girls. In both the book and movie, the narrator is represented by a group of boys, who are watching the girls, wondering what they think, love or want. This sweet and sour atmosphere of despair and hope is also perfectly depicted by the precise musical choices from the 1970’s Coppola made.

The play of the actors and the poetry of Coppola’s cinematic choices are obviously part of the ethereal beauty of the movie. We can find plenty of articles on the internet showing how the aesthetic of this movie influenced the early 2000’s generation of both girls and boys, and how this debut movie became an instant classic. But I can’t help but think Coppola actually failed at staying true to the original story at some points, and I think it’s great. It is great because it offers us the opportunity to discover the Lisbon sisters under two slightly different yet interesting points of view.

In Eugenides’ book, odors are omnipresent. The more you go into the novel, the more dampness and decay come to your nostrils. In parallel with the moral decline of the girls, their house starts to mold and exhale stench along the street. But in this dirty house, the girls are still shining, more mysterious than ever. This balance between sweetness and greasiness, purity and decadence, is what makes this book -and the girls- so disturbing. Instead of the girly and dreamy scenes of the movie, Eugenides offers us a more ambivalent vision of the life of the girls.

If both the movie and the book follow the exact same narrative construction -even word for word sometimes- they don’t use the same effects on the reader/spectator. When Coppola convoques the codes of innocence and purity to enhance the despair of the girls, Eugenides throw them directly into insanity and depravation. I think both creations are beautiful and powerful, and show us two different versions of the violent yet poetic faith of the Lisbon.

Le petit prince de la mode

Pendant 3 ans, le journaliste Loïc Prigent et son cameraman ont eu la chance de suivre Marc Jacobs à travers le monde, pour tenter de décrypter ses méthodes de travail, et capter sur écran ce qui fait sa réputation de « fashion genius ». En résulte un reportage Arte passionnant, nous dévoilant les dessous d’une industrie démentielle, capitaliste jusqu’à l’os et pourtant envoûtante.

Marc Jacobs et Sofia Coppola par Juergen Teller 

Ce reportage nous présente Marc Jacobs, repéré par Bernard Arnaud, pdg du groupe de luxe LVMH, pour être placé en 1997 à la tête de la légendaire maison Louis Vuitton. L’arrivée du créateur à l’univers inspiré du punk et de la culture underground new-yorkaise au sein d’une vénérable maison de couture française, un peu engoncée dans la tradition, va se révéler un pari gagnant. En quelques collections seulement, Marc Jacobs et ses équipes permettent à Louis Vuitton de revenir sur le devant de la scène et de connaître un engouement international sans commune mesure avec aucune autre maison de luxe.

Mais alors, qu’est ce qui fait de Marc Jacobs un créateur si génial? Loïc Prigent analyse et décortique les méthodes de travail du couturier, pour tenter d’en faire émerger la recette du succès. L’envers des coulisses est époustouflant de démesure, tant par le temps de travail demandé que dans les moyens que sont prêts à prendre tous les membres de l’équipe pour arriver à boucler une collection. Toujours en quête d’inspiration, Jacobs sillonne les galeries d’art, rencontre des artistes à la renommée internationale, mais sait aussi s’inspirer d’éléments quotidiens. Acharné de travail, il n’hésite pas à retravailler des matières, des vêtements démodés, torturer ses créations pour les faire entrer dans son idée de la mode.

De manière surprenante, celui que tout le monde s’arrache semble être resté d’une modestie incroyable: Marc Jacobs est très conscient de la vanité de son activité. Il dit même « Je ne crois pas que « important » et « mode » puissent figurer dans la même phrase ». Au lieu de la mégalomanie attendue d’un personnage aussi célèbre, on ne trouve chez Marc Jacobs que de la passion, un humour à toutes épreuves et une lucidité désarmante. Jacobs ressemble parfois à un enfant entouré des ses jouets, brillant dans ce qu’il sait faire, mais démuni face à la vie plus réelle. Le reportage adopte un humour subtil mais dévastateur à l’encontre des grands puissants du groupe de mode, hommes d’affaire en costume impeccable, moins intéressés par l’art que par les bénéfices financiers à en tirer. Marc Jacobs, lui, est vu comme un créateur aimé et respecté de ses ateliers, ayant gardé les pieds sur terre et un certain sens des réalités. Le montage du documentaire, réalisé avec humour et finesse, met souvent en confrontation des moments de faste démesurés avec des instants intimes passés avec le couturier. On l’y voit étreindre de nombreuses célébrités, mais finalement renter seul dans son immense chambre d’hôtel. Le contraste est saisissant.

Au final, le génie du créateur reste toujours aussi opaque, le documentaire nous permettant juste d’analyser ses méthodes, ses façons de travailler. Seulement, le reportage se déroulant, on comprend que l’essentiel n’est peut-être pas là, et que le génie est aussi une question d’époque, de public, de mode. Ce qui reste, c’est la chaleur du personnage, son amour du travail, et son énergie créatrice formidable.

Feeling like an alien is ok when you listen to Soko

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4TYGM2f3830 Soko doesn’t care about the fame. Soko doesn’t care about the selling of her album. She doesn’t even care about having a home and a proper job. She only cares about telling stories with her guitar, her broken voice and her dreamy videos.

The unexpected success of her debut album I thought I was an alien, released in 2012 by Because Music, brought the folk music back to the fore. In a decade that praises electronic music and singers with powerful voices, melancholic Soko was not exactly in the mood of time. Actually, the most successful female singers of this year were Adele, Céline Dion and Lana del Rey. However, I thought I was an alien instantly found its audience, in line with folk singers like Bob Dylan or Jeff Buckley. But what is the interest of releasing an album in a style of music that was important in the 70’s, thirty years later?

A bit of context is necessary here: Soko lost her dad when she was 5, and this early loss gave her the urge to live and the fear of death. She left her home at age 16, heading to Paris in order to become an actress. She spent a lot of time alone in this big city, discovering music and playing in a few bad movies. Tired of the Parisian life, she traveled through Europe, always looking for a sunny place to settle down. She found her happy place in Los Angeles, surrounded by the mountains and the sea. Her album was written during this long journey, inspired by the people she met and the places she discovered. The nakedness of the songs can then be explained by the equipment restrictions due to traveling and the urge of creating that Soko felt, alone in the world. I think this is what makes this album so authentic: she didn’t embrace folk music because it was the mood of the time, but because it was the most direct and easy way to express herself. This album actually took many years to be written, and the songs are rather chronicles of her day-to-day moods than studio-made creations.What makes I thought I was an alien so true is also the themes Soko deals with in it. Constructed as a diary, the album was an antidote for the depression Soko had to deal with. She exposes her doubts and fears, her heart-breaking relationships with lovers she loved too much, her self-depreciating thoughts. Folk music was actually made for these murmured secrets around a fire camp, and this is that kind of feeling you catch listening to I thought I was an alien. Time to time out of tone and with a strong french accent, the fragile yet powerful voice of Soko directly touches your heart.

Regarding all these elements, we can easily understand the success of I thought I was an alien. I think there was a real need for intimate music and comforting melodies at that time, and Soko came from out of nowhere with the perfect folk album. This is also very interesting to look at how she took some classical codes of folk music and mixed it with contemporary techniques and sounds, creating timeless songs. In case you feel lonely, weird or melancholic, Soko released this album in order to share her experiences and feelings with you. If you listen to her songs, you will feel that you slowly but surely take part to her sweet and sour alien world.