Audencia culture

A week in London (as a museum nerd)(Part 1) 

Arts visuels

A week in London museums : National Gallery, Victoria & Albert Museum 

During the art market seminar led by the Sotheby’s Institute of Art in London, I enjoyed my time in the city going to (some of) the most famous museums of the world. Here is what I thought about them. 

Going to museum is one of my favorites activities. As I went to many exhibitions and received advanced education in art history and museum administration, I have developed a <modest> expertise on the topic, putting it to service for the blog as I discuss my tour of the Queen’s house, the National Gallery and the Victoria and Albert Museum.

Last week, as with four of my fellow classmates, I went to London to attend the Sotheby’s Institute of Art Seminar. Introductions classes on the different aspects of the art market and in-the-field trips – yes but not only; as artist studio visits, Sotheby’s auction house tour and gallery hopping ended we made sure to enjoy London as much as we could. Our travel plan was busy and we might have exhausted the London cultural must-seen. Today, I propose a brief recap on the 4 museums I have been to, which are very much classical art-history oriented as my specialism in this field focuses on European paintings from the seventeenth century: The Queen’s House, the National Gallery, the Victoria & Albert Museum and the Wallace Collection. 

The Queen’s House, Greenwich 

This first venue, I admit, is 100% nerdy. Let me introduce it to you. The Queen’s House was built by Inigo Jones for Anne of Denmark in 1616. Inigo Jones is this very famous British architect who imported classical architecture, which we call “Palladian architecture” from Italy to England. As the matter of fact, the Queen’s House is the first building built in this style as Inigo Jones just came back from his “Italian grand tour”, an initiatory trip in Italy and Europe for gentlemen and artists.  

What was the reason for this new building you may ask, well I learnt on site that the lands were given to Anne of Denmark by her husband, King James Ist, as an apology for he had sworn to her face after she accidentally shot his dog. There was no recording on whether the dog survived, which is a shame, yet that’s how the place was erected. However, Anne of Denmark died shortly after and the finishing touches were brought to by Henriette-Marie. 

Now, she is the reason I went to the Queen’s House. Henriette-Marie is Henri IV and Marie de Medici’s daughter, which makes her, you guessed it, Louis XIII sister. She was Queen of England as Charles Ist spouse but mostly a highly educated lady in sciences, astronomy, a political figure of the 1650 english revolution and a brilliant patron of the art. In the 1630s she ordered beautiful ceilings for the Queen’s house to Italian masters Guido Reni and Orazio and Artemisia Gentileschi. Charles Ist, not to be left out, had also ordered a ceiling to Jacob Jordans, a Flemish painter of those around Rubens who was close with the King.  

So I went to Greenwich on Sunday, where the Queen’s House is. It was a one-hour bus trip through South London then a one-hour-and-a-half trip back to the hostel, only to realize: there were no ceilings !  

The Gentileschis’ ceilings had been taken away to some other castle by some other queen who reckoned they were quite beautiful – I bet ! While the Jordans’ had never seen the light of day since Charles Ist had been beheaded before they were completed. The last remaining original ceiling from Henriette Marie’s time showed refined Renaissance floral motifs framing a central painting supposedly by Guido Reni … which had been removed for a bland eighteenth century allegory.  

So this was a disappointment. All the more so that, as the Queen’s house hasn’t been inhabited by a royal figure since 1650, the English revolution, the beheading of Charles Ist and the flight of Henriette-Marie back to France, the collection compelled by the French princess and Queen of England was scattered to other properties of the Crown. As a result, it lacks the grandmaster’s pieces ordered to decorate those walls.  

Not to be worried, the place is very well decorated, mostly by B-list painters yet one can even spot a beautiful Gainsborough (*famous British painter from the eighteenth century, specialised in portraits) and some Tudor family portraits (*English Royal family before the Stuart, amongst Tudors are Henry VIII, Elizabeth Ist, who was the last Tudor on the throne – amongst Stuart are Mary Stuart, Charles Ist) including a copy of the “Armada Portrait” of Queen Elizabeth Ist, made and named after the victory of the English navy on the Spanish Armada. Indeed, the Queen’s house displays a lot of marines and sea-related works from the fifteenth century to the Normandy landings as it was home to the Royal Hospital for Seamen in the late eighteenth century.  

The display of artworks, as it also is in some of the other museums presented in this article, is mainly decorative – instead of complentative or educational. Hung too high, poorly lighten and subject to unsolicited reflection of light, the paintings weren’t displayed to favor their careful study and beloved delectation. Yet the Queen’s house remains a very pleasant place to stroll and wander around and I appreciated the emphasis put on some, relatively new, topics addressing feminist questions, migratory concerns and queer issues both through contemporary acquisitions and the mediation on older works. 

The National Gallery, Trafalgar Square 

I passed on the British Museum, I know, it might have been expected, yet couldn’t resist the National Gallery. As a matter of fact, I went twice. The reason for that is simple: every day of the week the seminar ended around 4 p.m. when most museums in London close before 6 p.m.. With the addition of the bye-bye moment, last catting and the transportation time we are left with a very short moment to visit those diverse collections. I had to make a choice and a strategic choice was made: I needed to be selective and to go straight for the seventeenth century paintings. 

Entering the National Gallery was quite a weird feeling for the French visitor used to Parisian museums I am. Right after the security checks, you walk through a gigantic stairs only to be thrown directly among the paintings. No big halls, no mazy corridors to give you the time to get in the mood: straight to it. And now you have to make a choice: two wings, two lists of painters. On the left: Titien, Poussin, Rubens, Van Dyck, Van Eyck, Rembrandt […] – on the right: Vigée le Brun, Van Gogh, Manet, Gauguin […]. So if you know me, you know: I went to the left, twice. I was on a quest and it did not disappoint. 

First room displayed a series of portraits which selection was a bit off-putting as it brings together paintings both from Italy (the marvelous Portrait of Gerolamo Barbarigo by Titien – the fancy man with the big blue sleeve) and Northern Europe (Van Eyck Ambassadors which, small tips, you have to watch from the right, as close to the frame as possible to see the skull with its right proportion).  

Moving on to a green salon full of Venetian artists – plus a little Leonardo and Michelangelo but my unpopular opinion is I don’t like them so much, and the art (over-) stimulation begins. As I then moved to the Rubens room, Rembrandt one, Danish scene paintings, I noticed this painting, and this picture catches my eye and everywhere I look is even more appealing and exciting. So I’m here going crazy in my head and hopping with joy from one painting to another, let me just present to you my top #3 favorites. 

In third place goes Delilah and Samson by Rubens, painted in 1609-1610. It has always been my favorite from this artist, I love the depiction of the abandonment of Samson on the knees of Delilah, his sleep engendered by seduction, trust – and wine. Funny story: I always mis-say the name of Delilah, changing it for Dalida.  

In second, I must place Rembrandt’s supposed portrait of Hendrickje Stoffels, his second partner, made in the mid 1650s, hence at the very end of his career. I had never questioned their age difference which, when I think about it, might be a tat concerning, yet the portrait is an absolute masterpiece of humility and dignity, majesty and intimacy, a beautiful tribute to her. 

My grande favorite … tatata … drum rolls please ! The Saint Sébastien made by Gerrit von Honthorst around 1623. Now, Gerrit von Honthorst is a little less renowned than big masters, some would even say the art monsters that are Rembrandt and Ruben. French call him “Gérard des nuits” [Gérard of the nights] after the nocturnes he did. Von Honthorst is part of this little trio of painters, Hendrick ter Brugghen, Dirck van Baburen and him, the Utrecht Caravaggisti. All three of them were trained in the workshop of the same mannerist painter (*an old weird way of painting, overly elegant, overly refined), they all went to Rome around 1610, discovered Caravaggio painting, loved it and brought some of it to Utrecht, their native city in the Netherlands. As a twist of fate, van Baburen and ter Brugghen died a couple years after (1924 and 1629). This school of painting, as short as it may have lasted, as little its production is, is, I believe, my favourite movement of art history as a whole. Very briefly, I love how vivid the colors are, how pure the lines, the forms. Their compositions are brilliantly efficient – meaning they are simple yet they evoke so much. I adore the plasticity with which the human body is rendered and the subtle precision of the anatomy. See the Saint Sebastien of von Honthorst and the congestion of his forearms due the restraints. It is a masterpiece – but like, in an easy-going way.  

The Victoria & Albert Museum 

Going to the Victoria & Albert Museum was another bus adventure. As I mentioned, museums in London are closing quite early, except for some that have late openings on fridays. That is the case of the Victoria & Albert Museum (V&A to their friends, which we are !): it closes at 10 pm on that day, a perfect opportunity for me to go ! I waited for the bus for quite some time until I gave up to go take another one, walked a bit, met this cute french couple who was also going to the V&A museum, chatted with them then we finally arrived at South Kensington. 

History recap : the V&A was founded, as the name suggests, under Queen Victoria and her husband, Prince Consort Albert, in 1852 to be precise. What is less known is that it was erected in what was at the time a working neighbourhood of London with the intent to educate industrial workers and develop their taste in applied and decorative art. The long-term goal of the Crown, represented by the museum director Henry Cole, was to develop England industrial production and improve English design on the international market to make the United Kingdom shine during International exhibitions – the place to be of the time ! 

This legacy still lingers within the display of the Victoria & Albert Museum. On the ground floor, art works are presented in a very immersive fashion, curated to render their functional purposes – as they were during their time of use. Hence an orthodox cross suspended in the air, floating above the visitors, fences to separate sacred spaces, a gigantic ottoman rug laid on the floor. On the first floor, colourful stained-glass windows are lightened from behind in an otherwise dark gallery. Such display of works generates a dreamy atmosphere, a vibe, quite favorable to amazement, conversation and, dare I say, would make it a great date venue.  

I wandered around in amazement for museography (*fancy world to talk about how the artworks are displayed and the galleries organized) for quite some time, enjoying the way visitors could walk from the Greek and Roman antiquities area to the Islamic arts space to South Asia, China, Japan pieces very easily has these areas were all adjoining one another, breaking the artificial walls put up by a compartmentalized history of art. To explain it in a clearer way, the organization of the rooms in the V&A made me think about the “Galerie du temps” [Time’s gallery] of the Louvre-Lens where as you go from front to the back of the room you advance in time but when you go from right to left you change the place of provenance of the works, you move among the different cultural regions of the worlds.  

Regardless of how brilliant the display of the works were and how pretty the pieces, I was on a quest to find the seventh century Flemish paintings I adore. I walked back and forth, turned left and right, encountered a few closed aisles, climbed stairs to the second floor multiple times and asked different agents of the museums for information – only to come to the conclusion the departments for European arts were all closed.  

Needless to say: I was upset! Yet, after a quick detour to the museum shop – which by the way occupies a place of choice in the visitor route, I found my good spirit again and went to enjoy some Islamic art which I always find so rich and beautiful.  

Monuments across continents

Architecture

Monuments across continents

Monumental architecture has an undeniable power to captivate us. Whether it’s the towering spires of a gothic cathedral or the symmetrical elegance of the Taj Mahal, these awe-inspiring structures leave an indelible imprint on the cultural landscape. Across different cultures and time periods, monumental buildings have become more than just functional spaces; they are expressions of human creativity, cultural identity, and spiritual devotion. But despite their geographical and temporal distances, why do we find so many shared characteristics in these iconic monuments? What do these structures reveal about our common humanity? 

Architecture as Art: Creative Masterpieces Across Continents 

Monuments are not merely functional; they are expressions of human artistry/creativity and physical embodiment of artistic vision. From the intricate details of the Taj Mahal to the grandeur of the Eiffel Tower in Paris, these structures go beyond their utilitarian purposes to become timeless works of art. 

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 Take, for instance, the Pyramids of Giza in Egypt, which combine geometric precision and monumental grandeur, serving as both architectural feats and artistic triumphs of ancient Egyptian civilization. These buildings are cultural touchstones, each stone laid with deep symbolism and thought, serving as more than just shelter or space, but as vessels of identity, culture, and history. 

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These structures have artistic significance as much as cultural and spiritual value, becoming symbols of both the empires that built them and the civilizations they impacted. The cathedrals of Europe, such as Notre-Dame in Paris and St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome, represent the intersection of art, religion, and power, where architecture itself serves as a medium for spiritual expression. 

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Yet, what is often hidden in the story of these monumental creations is the role of colonialism in the exchange of architectural knowledge. While colonial powers exported their architectural styles to far-flung corners of the world, they also absorbed and appropriated the designs and ideas of the lands they occupied. For instance, Mughal architectural elements from India, such as the minarets and arches of the Taj Mahal, can be seen echoed in British colonial buildings. The cross-pollination of ideas was a product of colonial exchanges, though often this history is obscured by elites who rewrite the narratives of these monuments to favor a singular, dominant cultural story. 

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The Artist’s Vision: Personal and Cultural Symbolism 

One of the most fascinating aspects of monumental architecture is the personal and cultural significance embedded in each structure. Architects, builders, and craftsmen have long infused monumental structures with personal and cultural meanings, making each building unique. Whether designed by a single architect or built by thousands, these monuments often reflect a fusion of individual vision and collective cultural values. The Basilica of Saint Nicholas in Nantes, France, for example, combines intricate Baroque details with religious symbolism to evoke both devotion and grandeur. Similarly, the Sistine Chapel in Vatican City demonstrates how art and architecture can merge to create an immersive spiritual experience, where Michelangelo’s frescoes transcend mere decoration to convey religious narratives.  

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Relatedly, the Taj Mahal stands as a testament to Emperor Shah Jahan’s love for his wife Mumtaz Mahal, immortalizing their bond in white marble. In the case of the Fatehpur Sikri in India, we see the grandeur of Mughal architecture blended with Islamic and Hindu elements, illustrating the cultural convergence that took place under the reign of Emperor Akbar. Through intricate carvings and expansive courtyards, these monuments become a canvas for a diverse spiritual narrative that transcends religious boundaries. 

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These monuments also stand as testaments to the ingenuity of their creators. The Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao, Spain, designed by Frank Gehry, challenges traditional ideas of form and space, creating an architectural masterpiece that reflects the artist’s unique perspective. Likewise, the Burj Khalifa in Dubai, a modern marvel, symbolizes both innovation and the desire for a lasting legacy, rising to unprecedented heights and reshaping the skyline of the city. 

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These structures reflect the values of the societies that created them—whether as an act of devotion, a symbol of power, or a memorial to love. 

Monuments as Universal Symbols: Connecting Humanity Across Time and Space 

Monuments are universal symbols, representing shared human experiences such as devotion, love, and the quest for meaning. Structures like the Duomo in Florence or the Great Mosque of Djenné in Mali stand as towering expressions of religious faith. The Sagrada Familia in Spain and the Taj Mahal in India are not just architectural wonders but also acts of devotion, representing humanity’s quest for spiritual connection with the divine. 

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Shot with NOMO CAM 135 TC.
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Yet, the emotional and spiritual significance of these monuments goes beyond religious expression. Monuments like the Paris Opera House, the Alhambra in Spain, or even the Griffith Observatory in Los Angeles reflect human aspirations—love, sacrifice, patriotism, and intellectual curiosity. Each building embodies deep emotional resonance, whether it be the Taj Mahal’s eternal love or the Arc de Triomphe’s reflection of national pride. 

This shared emotional connection to monumental architecture creates a thread that binds us across cultures and continents. Despite their cultural differences, these structures speak to universal human experience. Whether born out of a desire to honor a loved one or to express national identity, monuments serve as an emotional bridge between past and present, between individuals and their collective histories. 

Cross-Cultural Influence: A Global Exchange of Ideas 

The influence of one culture’s architectural style on another is not a new concept. In many ways, monumental structures are the result of a long history of cross-cultural exchanges. 

Colonialism, though often obscured in contemporary narratives, played a significant role in this exchange of architectural knowledge. Western societies imposed their architectural ideals on their colonies, but they also borrowed elements from the regions they occupied. The Mughal empire, for example, influenced the design of many colonial structures in India, and today, that fusion of styles can still be seen in the architecture of cities like Kolkata and Mumbai. 

Romanesque and Gothic architecture spread throughout Europe, leaving their mark on structures like the Duomo in Florence and Westminster Abbey in England. The Renaissance period was heavily influenced by Islamic art and architecture, with geometric patterns and ornamental designs permeating European structures. In more recent years, modern Western architecture has drawn inspiration from Eastern architectural principles, evident in the sleek design of skyscrapers and the incorporation of natural elements in urban landscapes.  

This cross-cultural influence can be seen in the evolution of architectural styles, where elements from various cultures have been blended to create contemporary designs. The University of Deusto in Bilbao, Spain, reflects a modern synthesis of both traditional and contemporary styles, bridging the gap between history and the future. 

In modern times, global trends like Art Deco and Brutalism have also created shared aesthetic values, seen in buildings like the Empire State Building in New York or the Chandigarh Capitol Complex in India. The global spread of these architectural styles highlights how interconnected the world has become, where design concepts transcend borders and reflect a collective vision of the future. 

Monumental Missteps: How Periodization Distorts the Global Exchange of Architectural Ideas 

However, the way we categorize and understand these architectural exchanges is heavily influenced by the concept of periodization—the historical process of dividing history into distinct periods. While periodization can offer a useful framework for studying history, it also creates hierarchical structures that shape how we view different cultures and their contributions to the world. In the context of architecture, periodization often reinforces the notion that Western art and architecture progress in a linear fashion, while other cultures and their monumental achievements are relegated to being merely contemporaneous or existing « around » Western history. 

As Eric Hayot argues in his work « Against Periodization, » periodization is far from neutral. By dividing history into rigid timeframes, we inadvertently elevate certain cultural narratives (often Western) while marginalizing others. This approach not only simplifies the complexities of cultural exchange but also perpetuates stereotypes that reinforce biases. When we separate monuments and architectural styles by time and geography, we risk undermining the interconnectedness of global architectural history, which has been influenced by shared ideas and practices across cultures. 

This hierarchical view is problematic because it overlooks how the exchange of architectural knowledge transcends temporal boundaries. It downplays the role of colonialism in the flow of ideas between the West and the rest of the world, as well as the influence of non-Western architectural styles on modern Western design. For example, the geometric patterns in Islamic architecture during the Renaissance had a profound influence on Western design, yet this exchange is often ignored or understated in favor of a narrative that positions Western architecture as « progressive » while other architectural traditions remain static. 

Conclusion: Reflecting on the Shared Human Experience  

Monuments are not just buildings; they are symbols of our collective human values—devotion, beauty, love, and the pursuit of knowledge. Across continents and centuries, these structures embody the universal desire to express emotion, beliefs, and aspirations through architecture.  

Monuments continue to serve as cultural storytellers. They reflect the values of the societies that created them, offering glimpses into their religious, emotional, and political beliefs. The detailed carvings of the Taj Mahal, the grandeur of the Colosseum, and the spiritual weight of the Sistine Chapel all speak to the civilizations that built them, offering insights into their values, struggles, and triumphs. 

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As we reflect on these monumental structures, we are reminded of the shared human experience they represent. These buildings transcend time and space, linking us across centuries and continents, reminding us that despite our differences, we are bound by the same universal emotions—love, devotion, pride, and the desire to create something lasting. The beauty of these monuments lies not just in their physical form, but in their ability to connect humanity across borders, cultures, and time periods. 

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As we look to the future, it’s fascinating to consider what new monuments will be created to honor cultures and histories. How will future generations continue to build on this shared legacy of human creativity? An enduring legacy of human creativity that will continue to inspire, connect, and transcend. 

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Shot with NOMO CAM 135 TC.

Nida Kamal

Nicolas Cage: good or bad? 

Cinéma / TV,

Nicolas Cage is an American actor known for his intense acting and memeable scenes. This article looks at his life choices, personality, filmography and relationship with the art of cinema.  

Nicolas Cage is an actor whose films I enjoy watching very much. His wild, at times memeified performances, have however not always managed to convince the general opinion or critics for that matter. His detractors often note that all his dialog is either whispered or screamed. Yet, there is something oddly magnetic about the way Cage acts, somehow managing to anchor himself into my brain through a blend of charisma, eccentricity and pure devotion to his craft. Admittedly, there is also a bit of nostalgia on my part: a few of his performances truly stuck with me as a teen, such as in the hilarious Raising Arizona, the terrific Matchstick Men and the adventurous National Treasure duology. 

 Cage’s devotion to the art of acting can be understood by looking at his family tree. He is director Francis Ford Coppola’s nephew as well as Sofia Coppola’s cousin. Rather than direct, Nic Cage preferred acting, choosing to use a pseudonym so as to earn his way into the industry as opposed to being hired on the basis of nepotism. While he did not take on the Coppola name, he did take on the family’s bravado, ambition and unequivocal love for the big screen. An ambitious and confident Cage built an impressive resume in the ’80s and ‘90s culminating in his 1996 Oscar win for the leading role in Leaving Las Vegas. Cage would often choose off-beat or auteur projects for which he could fully explore his character’s persona and deliver an artistic performance.  

His eccentricity and love for art are what launched his career but also led him to spend more money than he could afford. Among other things, the actor bought dinosaur skulls, rare exotic animals and two European castles and fell into considerable debt. Just like everyone else, Cage had to work more in order to earn more meaning he ended up accepting roles in projects he was not necessarily enthused by. Many were straight-to-video and carried little artistic value like The Runner, 211 or The Trust. Many actors accept roles for their financial incentives more than their artistic appeal. Some do not necessarily feel bothered to perform well in these instances since they are not chasing critical acclaim and end up phoning it in. Robert de Niro, Harrison Ford, Bill Murray are actors who have tended to put little work into some of their later performances. Cage however lives and dies for the art of acting and takes pride in giving his all regardless of the role. “Even if the movie ultimately is crummy, they know I’m not phoning it in, that I care every time.” He told GQ in 2022. Even when his role as Superman in The Flash involved no dialog whatsoever, Nic Cage insisted on finding how to convey emotions —  fear, loss, trauma — solely through his character’s eyes, he told Yahoo. This way of thinking is to me what sets him apart from many others in the industry and can be felt in his performance. His performances aren’t always golden, but they truly show the Cage’s full engagement in his role every single time. It is this grit, this commitment, this devotion which sets him apart. 

I also think that this type of commitment to the art is what has enabled the actor to bounce back from his slump. What Cage wants is to be attached to artistically driven projects and to explore his relationship with the art of performing. By building a reputation for himself through which he is seen as someone who is willing to give 110% to each and every role he takes on, not only has he stayed on the radar of interesting and up and coming directors, but he has also given himself the opportunity to step back into the spotlight. The past few years have been particularly good to Nic Cage, making his comeback to the mainstream thanks to Mandy and Into the Spider-verse, starring in the very meta The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent alongside Pedro Pascal as well as Dream Scenario produced by Ari Aster. His acting abilities and eye for captivating and avant-gardist projects give me hope that Cage may still have a long and successful career and many more wild roles to play. 

As a fan of cinema, I am always appreciative of the artists, not only actors but directors, vfx artists, makeup artists, screenwriters, producers and more who strive to produce something unique and their own for the sake of artistic discovery. Nicolas Cage is among the most passionate, resilient and artistically driven actors in activity. His approach to acting is so singular and shows so much love for the art that it systematically translates on screen. Watching him in a movie is always such a pleasure because I know that no other actor would give a performance quite like him. Creative genius may often come with eccentric quirks but like with Mr. Cage, it finds a way. 

Colin Lhernould

Le gardien de Téhéran, Stéphanie Perez – Sophie Juffet 

Littérature, ,

1979, Téhéran. 

La révolution ébranle le pays et sa population. Cyrus Farzadi, 25 ans, travaille au Musée d’Art contemporain de la ville. Musée développé et construit par le cousin de l’impératrice, Kamran Diba. Ce lieu marqueur d’un régime passé, d’une vie luxueuse, d’une ouverture occidentale est menacé suite à  la prise de pouvoir des mollahs et de l’Ayatollah Khomeiny.  

Cyrus réussira-t-il à sauver les toiles des maitres occidentaux face à l’obscurantisme des mollahs ? Le Téhéran du Chah peut-il encore exister à travers ces monuments malgré la montée du régime islamique ? 

Introduction : 

Stéphanie Perez est une journaliste grand reporter chargée de l’internationale à France Télévisions pour les journaux de France 2 et France 3 depuis plus de vingt-cinq ans maintenant. Elle s’est rendue à plusieurs reprises au Proche-Orient, afin de couvrir notamment les conflits en Syrie et en Irak et plus tard en Ukraine. Elle a remporté en 2018 le prix Bayeux des Lycéens et en 2020 le Laurier du Grand Reporter.  

Le Gardien de Téhéran, son premier roman, s’inspire d’une histoire vraie. Stéphanie Perez introduit ce livre en justifiant le choix du roman et non du documentaire pour la préservation de l’identité et de la vie des personnes qui ont créé les personnages du livre et ainsi de relater la Révolution Iranienne dans les années 1970. Elle souligne également la complexité de l’Iran et la fragilité de la parole et de la mémoire de ces personnes qui ont contribué à l’enrichissement et à la préservation du Musée d’Art Contemporain de Téhéran.  

L’Iran des années 1970 :  

Cyrus Farzadi vit dans les quartiers populaires à l’Ouest de Téhéran dans un petit appartement avec sa mère Farideh. Elle est coutière, travaille pour les occidentaux vivant à Téhéran, pour cette classe élitiste qui fleurte avec l’extravagance, les soirées mondaines et la frivolité qu’offre le règne des Pahlavi. Elle raccorde les robes de soirées de ces jeunes dames parfois tard le soir. Cyrus est un grand timide, discret et contentieux. Il travaille comme livreur, jusqu’à sa rencontre avec Donna Stein au musée d’Art Contemporain, où il livre de la moquette.  

Le musée d’art contemporain de Téhéran fait partie des nombreux bâtiments en construction. Farah Pahlavi, aussi appelée « L’impératrice des Arts » souhaite donner une nouvelle vision de l’occident. Elle a chargé son cousin Kamran Dabi de développer la collection de ce nouveau musée et de s’entourer des meilleurs experts. Il travaille en étroite collaboration avec Donna Stein, une américaine qui connait bien le monde de l’Art contemporain. Ses connections avec New York et les grandes maisons de ventes anglaises facilitent l’accès à ces œuvres et ce marché. La crise pétrolière de 1976 a mis les marchés occidentaux dans de mauvais draps, alors que l’Iran croule sur l’or. Le musée acquière pour des sommes minimes des Warhol, Hockney, Bacon, Renoir, Pissarro…pour ne citer qu’eux. C’est l’argent du pétrole qui permet au marché de l’art d’atteindre des sommets impensables pour les occidentaux.  

Cyrus découvre un monde auquel il se forme grâce aux œuvres qu’il transporte mais aussi grâce aux rencontres qu’il fait. Lauren, sa jeune collègue anglo-iranienne s’occupe de la restauration des tableaux et lui transmet tout son savoir sur l’histoire des œuvres qu’elle travaille. Elle aide également à la traduction du catalogue. Mona Tavoli, son mari et sa fille Pouran aideront Cyrus à authentifier les œuvres du musée.  

Le 14 octobre 1977, lorsque le musée fait sa grande cérémonie d’inauguration les Pahlavi sont présents ainsi que de nombreux experts occidentaux, et d’autres personnalités comme Grace de Monaco, le futur roi d’Espagne, des magnats du pétrole, des stars de la jet-set…. 

Les célèbres critiques d’Art français Georges Boudaille et André Fermigier ne comprennent pas et ne prennent pas au sérieux ce nouvel intérêts de l’Iran pour l’art « occidental ». Toutefois, lors de l’inauguration ils sont plus qu’impressionnés : comment l’Iran a-t-il pu se procurer de tel chef d’œuvre ?  

Merci l’or noire ! 

La Révolution : 

Depuis le mariage de Mohammad Reza Pahlavi et Farah Diba en 1967, la société s’est davantage divisée : une classe élitiste qui profite de cet américanisation/occidentalisation de la société iranienne qui vit de fêtes, de modernité et d’extravagance. Et l’autre classe, populaire, qui vit tant bien que mal dans une société qui l’omet et ne répond pas à ses attentes. 

Pourquoi le Chah souhaite tant offrir à ces occidentaux quand son propre peuple meurt de faim ? 

La construction de ces multiples musées et ces acquisitions d’art occidentaux interrogent la population. « Quel est le sens de l’art contemporain ? Qu’apporte-t-il au spectateur ? C’est une vaste question qui fait débat, même en Occident, mais pour Ali [l’oncle de Cyrus,] elle est devenue politique et religieuse. » 

Le ras le bol général des classes inférieures ainsi que la négligence et l’indifférence du Chah et de l’Impératrice à leur égard accentue le bouillonnement révolutionnaire. Sans compté sur la censure et La Savak, la police secrète du Chah, qui grâce à une loi de 1957 peut « arrêter toute personne soupçonnée de ‘complot contraire à l’ordre public’ ».  

Azadeh, la voisine et amie de Cyrus, étudiante en droit à l’université de Téhéran, connaitra La Savak. Cette jeune femme volubile a soif de vengeance et de liberté du peuple, rêve d’un monde plus égalitaire… Les récits les plus affreux sont répandus dans le pays quant au sort des prisonniers… Mais celui d’Azadeh est unique et si représentatif de cette société biface. Les signes protestataires du régime du Chah sont de plus en plus présents, notamment le port du hijab, signe contestataire du model américain apporté par les Pahlavi.  

Dans cette atmosphère lourde et pesante, le Chah est renversé. Sa femme et lui s’exilent dans divers pays, abandonnant leur vie, leur palais et le Musée d’art contemporain avec tous ces chef d’œuvres derrière eux. Khomeiny, ses mollahs et le reste de la population prennent possession des rues, des bâtiments. Les révolutionnaires détruisent tous ce qui est impie à leur yeux, tout ce qui ne représente pas l’Iran, le Vrai. « […] la petite salle de théâtre expérimental au coin de la rue » a été détruite ainsi que les « cinémas qui projetaient des films américains » et toutes autres infrastructures qui rappellent « la volonté d’ouverture vers l’étranger, la modernité, l’ailleurs » des Pahlavi.  

L’Iran d’aujourd’hui : 

Cette révolution civile et religieuse aura fait basculer à jamais le pays, ses habitants, ses habitudes et ses pensées dans une nouvelle ère.  

En 2016, « La prestigieuse collection de l’impératrice Farah Pahlavi est estimée par les plus grands experts mondiaux à près de 3 milliards de dollars ».  

Le musée d’Art Contemporain de Téhéran existe toujours. Ces chefs d’œuvres voient la lumière du jour en fonction du directeur du Musée : tantôt ouvert, tantôt fermé à tout art contemporain occidentaux.  

Le gardien de Téhéran, Stéphanie Perez – Sophie Juffet 

1979, Tehran. 

The revolution shakes the country and its people. Cyrus Farzadi, 25 years old, works at the Contemporary Art Museum in the city. The museum, developed and built by the Empress’s cousin, Kamran Diba, represents a marker of a past regime, a life of luxury, and a western openness. It is now threatened by the rise of the mullahs and Ayatollah Khomeini’s seizure of power.  

Will Cyrus manage to save the paintings of western masters from the obscurantism of the mullahs?  Can the Tehran of the Shah still exist through these monuments, despite the rise of the Islamic regime? 

Introduction: 

Stéphanie Perez is an investigative journalist responsible for international affairs at France Télévisions, covering the news for France 2 and France 3 for over twenty-five years. She has travelled multiple times to the Middle East, covering the conflicts in Syria and Iraq, and later in Ukraine. In 2018, she won the Bayeux Award for Young People’s Journalism and in 2020, the Laurier Award for Grand Reporter. 


Le Gardien de Téhéran (The Guardian of Tehran), her debut novel, is inspired by a true story. Stéphanie Perez introduces the book by justifying her choice to write a novel rather than a documentary in order to preserve the identity and lives of those who created the characters in the book, and thus to recount the Iranian Revolution of the 1970s. She also highlights the complexity of Iran and the fragility of the voices and memories of those who contributed to the enrichment and preservation of the Tehran Museum of Contemporary Art. 

Iran in the 1970s: 

Cyrus Farzadi lives in a working-class district in the West of Tehran in a small apartment with his mother, Farideh. She is a seamstress, working for the westerners living in Tehran, for the elitist class that flirts with extravagance, high-society parties, and the frivolity offered by the reign of the Pahlavi. She often alters evening gowns for these young women, sometimes late into the night. Cyrus is a shy, discreet, and somewhat contentious young man. He works as a deliveryman until he meets Donna Stein at the Tehran Museum of Contemporary Art, where he is delivering carpet. 

The Tehran Museum of Contemporary Art is part of the many buildings under construction. Farah Pahlavi, also known as « The Empress of the Arts« , wants to offer a new vision of the West. She has tasked her cousin Kamran Diba with developing the collection for this new museum and surrounding himself with the best experts. He works closely with Donna Stein, an American who knows the world of contemporary art well. Her connections with New York and major English auction houses facilitate access to these artworks and this market. The 1976 oil crisis left western markets in a bad position, while Iran was awash in gold. The museum acquires works by Warhol, Hockney, Bacon, Renoir, Pissarro… for minimal sums, just to name a few. It is the oil money that allows the art market to reach unimaginable heights for the West. 

Cyrus discovers a world to which he is introduced not only through the artworks he transports but also through the encounters he makes. Lauren, his young Anglo-Iranian colleague, is in charge of restoring the paintings and shares all her knowledge with him about the history of the works she works on. She also helps with the translation of the catalogue. Mona Tavoli, her husband, and their daughter Pouran will help Cyrus authenticate the museum’s artworks. 

On October 14, 1977, when the museum held its grand inauguration ceremony, the Pahlavi were present, along with many western experts and other personalities such as Grace of Monaco, the future King of Spain, oil magnates, jet-set stars… 

The famous French art critics Georges Boudaille and André Fermigier could not understand and did not take seriously Iran’s newfound interest in « western » art. However, during the inauguration, they were more than impressed: How could Iran have acquired such masterpieces? 

Thank you, black gold! 

The Revolution: 

Since the marriage of Mohammad Reza Pahlavi and Farah Diba in 1967, society has become even more divided: an elitist class benefiting from the Westernisation of Iranian society, living in luxury, modernity, and extravagance, and another, popular class, struggling to survive in a society that ignores it and does not meet its expectations. 

Why does the Shah wish to offer so much to these westerners when his own people are starving? 
The construction of these numerous museums and acquisitions of western art raise questions among the population. “What is the meaning of contemporary art? What does it offer to the viewer? This is a vast question that sparks debate, even in the West, but for Ali [Cyrus’s uncle], it has become political and religious.” 

The general frustration of the lower classes, as well as the neglect and indifference of the Shah and Empress toward them, amplifies the revolutionary stirrings. Not to mention the censorship and the Savak, the Shah’s secret police, which, thanks to a 1957 law, can “arrest anyone suspected of ‘plotting against public order’.” 

Azadeh, Cyrus’s neighbour and friend, a law student at Tehran University, will encounter the Savak. This outspoken young woman is thirsting for vengeance and freedom for the people, dreaming of a more egalitarian world… The most horrific stories are spread across the country regarding the fate of prisoners… But Azadeh’s story is unique and so representative of this dual-faced society. The protest signs against the Shah’s regime are increasingly evident, especially the wearing of the hijab, a protest against the American model introduced by the Pahlavi. 

In this heavy and oppressive atmosphere, the Shah is overthrown. He and his wife go into exile in various countries, abandoning their life, their palace, and the Contemporary Art Museum with all its masterpieces behind them. Khomeini, his mullahs, and the rest of the population take possession of the streets and buildings. The revolutionaries destroy everything that is deemed impious in their eyes, everything that does not represent Iran, the True Iran. “[…] the small experimental theatre at the street corner” was destroyed, as well as “the cinemas that showed American films”, and any other infrastructure that reminded them of “the desire for openness to the outside world, modernity, and the otherness” of the Pahlavi. 

Iran Today: 

This civil and religious revolution has forever transformed the country, its people, their customs, and their ways of thinking, ushering in a new era. 

In 2016, « The prestigious collection of Empress Farah Pahlavi was valued by the world’s top experts at nearly 3 billion dollars. » 

The Tehran Museum of Contemporary Art still exists. These masterpieces come to light depending on the museum director: sometimes open, sometimes closed to all western contemporary art. 

When movie stars burn up the stage

Cinéma / TV, Spectacle vivant

The recent French translation of the memoirs of Al Pacino (Sonny Boy, 2024, Seuil) in which he extensively talks about his experiences at the theater shows how close the ties between cinema and theater are. It is especially true for movie stars, whereas this part of their career is often sidelined. Here are a few examples of some actress’ and actors’ ties and commitment to the stage.  

Theater as the entry to an actor’s career 

When discussing about the theater being a first step of an acting career, the cases of Julie Harris and Marlon Brando are perfect illustrations. Julie Harris, a legendary American actress, who famously co-starred with James Dean in East of Eden, also won five Tony Award for Best Actress in a Play and three Emmy Awards for her performances on TV. She notably won a Tony for her role of Sally Bowles in I Am a Camera (later adapted as the Broadway musical Cabaret and a movie).  

For more information on Cabaret, follow this link: https://culture.audencia.com/cabaret-and-the-paradox-of-entertainment/  

In addition, if Marlon Brando is very well-known for his role of Vito Corleone in The Godfather (1972) or his performance in Apocalypse Now (1979), he actually began his career in Broadway. In 1947, his interpretation of Stanley Kowalski in A Streetcar Named Desire, a play by Tennessee Williams and directed by Elia Kazan, signed his entry to stardom. It was a huge success and remained for 855 performances at Broadway. The movie adaptation made him renowned worldwide and launched a decade of Oscar nominations and Hollywood classics.  

A theater career can influence a life and make things happen, as for Al Pacino, an actor of the avant-garde Off-Broadway theater. Famous for his roles in The Godfather I, II & III (1972, 1974 & 1990), Serpico (1973), Scarface (1983), Scent of a Woman (1992) or Carlito’s Way (1993), the first milestone of his career is actually the role of Murph in The Indian Wants The Bronx. This one-act play by Israel Horovitz was played in 1968 at the Astor Place Theater, an off-Broadway theater (meaning a theater with a smaller seating capacity and featuring less mainstream plays; these theaters began to develop following the bohemian and beatnik atmosphere of the 1950s and early 1960s). Pacino won the Obie Award (Award for Off-Broadway plays) for Best Actor thanks to his performance. The actress Faye Dunaway who saw the play, recommended Pacino to the agent Marty Bergman, who took charge of his career and had a decisive influence over it.  

In 1969, Pacino’s role of Bickham in Does the Tiger Wear a Necktie? by Don Petersen and directed by Michael Schultz was a second milestone as the play premiered at the Belasco Theater in Broadway and Pacino won a Tony Award for Best Dramatic Actor in a Supporting Role. Francis Ford Coppola saw the theater piece, which surely have influenced his choice of Pacino for the role of Michael Corleone in The Godfather I, II & III, while the studios were vehemently against.  

These are only a few examples among many others who began at the theater like Maria Casarès, Jean Marais, Jeanne Moreau, Jean-Louis Trintignant, Jean-Paul Belmondo, Emmanuelle Béart… v

The actors’ attachment and commitment to theater  

In France, Gérard Philipe is probably the greatest example of a movie star attached to promote theater. Indeed, if he was a tremendously skilled actor and famous worldwide, he was also (and perhaps mainly) a theater actor. His roles of Rodrigue in Le Cid and of the prince in The Prince of Homburg, co-starring Jeanne Moreau, marked an entire generation. Some actors refused to play these roles for a period since they felt nobody could outperform him, as the memories of his interpretation were still vivid. He also notably played in several Alfred de Musset’s plays, including the very difficult Lorenzaccio. Besides, Philipe actively participated in the Festival d’Avignon as of 1951 and even without signing a contract, remained loyal to it by moral engagement until his death in 1959. Thanks to his talent and reputation, it helped attracting viewers and gave an ‘aura’ to the Festival.  

His friendship with Jean Vilar (founder of the Festival) is well-known and also took shape in Philipe’s support and participation in the Théâtre National Populaire (an organization aiming at democratizing the theater and considering it as a public service). The representations used to be in the Palais de Chaillot and they also organized tours in France and worldwide. His support and participation were crucial and generous as it took a significant part of his time, the fees were the same for all actors, their names were in alphabetic order (none put forward) and they alternated between leading and supporting role. In 1952, Philipe’s popular success in the swashbuckler movie Fanfan la Tulipe helped attract a new audience, more diverse and from a less privileged background.  

Finally, to go back to Al Pacino, his attachment to theater has remained over the years since he played in several Shakespeare’s plays like Richard III, Julius Caesar and The Merchant of Venice. In addition, he wrote, produced, directed and played in the documentary/fiction movie Looking for Richard (1996). This personal movie dedicated to the play Richard III allowed him to express his personal vision of the character and story. The aim was to make the viewers learn about the play and to challenge and question the prejudices of the American audience towards Shakespeare. This independent film was not a commercial success, also due to the American studios who controlled the distribution and did not take the risk to broadcast it widely.  Nevertheless, it received positive reviews and was featured at the Sundance Film Festival 1996 and Cannes Film Festival 1996 (category “Un Certain Regard”) and Pacino won the Directors Guild of America Award for Outstanding Directing – Documentaries. 

Therefore, all these examples can encourage us to be more attentive and curious about the careers of our favorite actors/actresses, but also to dare to go to the theater a little more often. 

Deborah Gille 

Quand les stars de cinéma brûlent les planches 

La récente traduction en français des mémoires d’Al Pacino (Sonny Boy, 2024, Seuil) dans lesquelles il évoque longuement son expérience théâtrale montre à quel point les liens entre cinéma et théâtre sont étroits. C’est d’autant plus vrai pour les stars de cinéma, alors que cette partie de leur carrière est souvent méconnue. Voici quelques exemples des liens et engagements d’actrices et d’acteurs pour la scène.  

Le théâtre comme porte d’entrée dans la carrière d’acteur 

Lorsque l’on évoque le théâtre comme première étape d’une carrière d’acteur, les cas de Julie Harris et de Marlon Brando sont de parfaits exemples. Julie Harris, actrice américaine légendaire, qui a partagé l’affiche avec James Dean dans East of Eden, a également remporté cinq Tony Awards de la Meilleure Actrice dans une pièce de théâtre et trois Emmy Awards pour ses prestations à la télévision. Elle a notamment remporté un Tony pour son rôle de Sally Bowles dans I Am a Camera (adapté plus tard en comédie musicale à Broadway, Cabaret, et en film).  

Pour en apprendre davantage sur Cabaret, suivez ce lien : https://culture.audencia.com/cabaret-and-the-paradox-of-entertainment/  

Par ailleurs, si Marlon Brando est très connu pour son rôle de Vito Corleone dans Le Parrain (1972) ou sa performance dans Apocalypse Now (1979), il a en réalité commencé sa carrière à Broadway. En 1947, son interprétation de Stanley Kowalski dans Un tramway nommé désir, une pièce de Tennessee Williams mise en scène par Elia Kazan, signe son entrée dans la célébrité. Ce fut un énorme succès qui resta à l’affiche pendant 855 représentations à Broadway. L’adaptation cinématographique l’a rendu célèbre dans le monde entier et a lancé une décennie de nominations aux Oscars et de classiques hollywoodiens.  

Une carrière théâtrale peut influencer une vie et faire la différence, comme l’illustre le cas d’Al Pacino, acteur du théâtre d’avant-garde Off-Broadway. Célèbre pour ses rôles dans Le Parrain I, II & III (1972, 1974 et 1990), Serpico (1973), Scarface (1983), Le Temps d’un Week-End (1992) ou L’Impasse (1993), le premier jalon de sa carrière est en fait le rôle de Murph dans L’Indien cherche le Bronx. Cette pièce en un acte d’Israel Horovitz a été jouée en 1968 à l’Astor Place Theater, un théâtre off-Broadway (c’est-à-dire un théâtre ayant une capacité d’accueil plus réduite et présentant des pièces moins grand public ; ces théâtres ont commencé à se développer à la suite de l’atmosphère bohème et beatnik des années 1950 et du début des années 1960). Pacino a remporté l’Obie Award (récompense pour les pièces Off-Broadway) du Meilleur Acteur grâce à sa performance. L’actrice Faye Dunaway, qui a vu la pièce, a recommandé Pacino à l’agent Marty Bergman, qui prend alors en charge sa carrière et exercera une influence décisive.  

En 1969, le rôle de Bickham dans Does the Tiger Wear a Necktie ? de Don Petersen et mis en scène par Michael Schultz a constitué une deuxième étape importante, puisque la pièce a été jouée pour la première fois au Belasco Theater de Broadway et que Pacino a remporté le Tony Award du Meilleur Acteur dramatique dans un rôle secondaire. Francis Ford Coppola a vu la pièce de théâtre, ce qui a certainement influencé son choix de Pacino pour le rôle de Michael Corleone dans Le Parrain I, II & III, alors que les studios étaient farouchement contre.  

Ce ne sont que quelques exemples parmi tant d’autres qui ont commencé par le théâtre comme Maria Casarès, Jean Marais, Jeanne Moreau, Jean-Louis Trintignant, Jean-Paul Belmondo, Emmanuelle Béart… 

L’attachement et l’engagement des acteurs pour le théâtre  

En France, Gérard Philipe est probablement l’exemple le plus illustre d’une star de cinéma attachée à la promotion du théâtre. En effet, s’il était un acteur d’un immense talent et célèbre dans le monde entier, il était aussi (et peut-être surtout) un comédien de théâtre. Ses rôles de Rodrigue dans Le Cid et du prince dans Le Prince de Hombourg, aux côtés de Jeanne Moreau, ont marqué toute une génération. Certains acteurs ont refusé de jouer ces rôles par la suite, estimant que personne ne pouvait le surpasser et tant le souvenir de son interprétation était encore vif. Il a également joué dans plusieurs pièces d’Alfred de Musset, dont le très difficile Lorenzaccio. Par ailleurs, Philipe participe activement au Festival d’Avignon à partir de 1951 et, sans signer de contrat, lui reste fidèle par engagement moral jusqu’à sa mort en 1959. Grâce à son talent et à sa réputation, il contribue à attirer les spectateurs et à donner une « aura » au Festival. 

Son amitié avec Jean Vilar (fondateur du Festival) est bien connue et s’est également concrétisée par le soutien et la participation de Philipe au Théâtre National Populaire (une organisation visant à démocratiser le théâtre et à le considérer comme un service public). Les représentations avaient lieu au Palais de Chaillot et des tournées étaient organisées en France et à l’étranger. Le soutien et la participation de Philipe étaient cruciaux et généreux, car il y consacrait une grande partie de son temps, les cachets étaient les mêmes pour tous les acteurs, leurs noms étaient classés par ordre alphabétique (aucun n’était mis en avant) et ils alternaient les premiers et les seconds rôles. En 1952, le succès populaire de Philipe dans le film de cape et d’épée Fanfan la Tulipe permet d’attirer un nouveau public, plus varié et issu d’un milieu moins favorisé. 

Enfin, pour en revenir à Al Pacino, son attachement au théâtre ne s’est pas démenti au fil des ans puisqu’il a joué dans plusieurs pièces de Shakespeare comme Richard III, Jules César et Le Marchand de Venise. En outre, il a écrit, produit, réalisé et joué dans le documentaire/fiction Looking for Richard (1996). Ce film personnel consacré à la pièce Richard III lui a permis d’exprimer sa vision personnelle du personnage et de l’histoire. L’objectif était de faire découvrir la pièce aux spectateurs et de remettre en question les préjugés du public américain à l’égard de Shakespeare. Ce film indépendant n’a pas été un succès commercial, notamment à cause des studios américains qui ont contrôlé la distribution et n’ont pas pris le risque de le diffuser à grande échelle.  Néanmoins, il a reçu des critiques positives et a été présenté au Festival de Sundance 1996 et au Festival de Cannes 1996 (catégorie « Un certain regard ») et Pacino a remporté le Directors Guild of America Award for Outstanding Directing – Documentaries (prix de la meilleure réalisation – documentaires). 

Tous ces exemples peuvent donc nous inciter à être plus attentifs et curieux quant à la carrière de nos acteurs/actrices préférés, mais aussi à oser franchir les portes d’un théâtre un peu plus souvent. 

Deborah Gille 

Why I stopped making music

Musique

This article has no universal ambition. I am not here to say that my situation is a typical one that all “artists” face, this is simply an introspection of sorts.  

When I was around 10 years old my brother introduced me to a music making software and taught me the basics to using it. After playing around with it for a few years, I started taking it a bit more seriously and tried writing actual songs. I now have 11 songs, that I am very proud of, published on music streaming platforms. However, I haven’t really gone back to making music since my last project finished around a year and a half ago. I’ve thought about it and most of my conclusion is that nothing made me stop but certain aspects stopped motivating me to continue.  

I remember when I decided I would make my first song I was completely lost but the idea of discovering everything this new world had to offer made it fun. It was like starting a video game eager to explore the rest of the map and I was enjoying the process of learning by doing. I looked forward to the feeling of finishing the project and feeling proud of what I had achieved. Growing up, I worked on new projects and started building a reputation of being “the music guy”, a reputation that I cherished and held close to my heart. These things that once pushed me to keep going have kind of dissipated over time.  

I know that there are still many ways for me to grow in music production, but I no longer enjoy pursuing that growth. Despite all the progress I had made, I still found myself jealous of others, their songs that made me feel ways that my own music couldn’t. Other people were succeeding in doing what I wanted to do, and I had trouble seeing the worth in continuing to learn, so I stopped.  

The feeling of completing a project is incredibly satisfying but there is a disconnect between how you expect others to react and how they actually do. I thought that this thing that was important to me would be of some interest to the people close to me but that wasn’t often the case. My daily listens would reach 100 on release day but quickly go back down to 1 or 0 a few days later. I was proud but others tended not to care which made me wonder if I had really accomplished anything. 

Finally, I had grown attached to this reputation of “the music guy” I had built for myself. Slowly, it became increasingly common for people around me to have a similar talent and I felt like I was losing something. I know it might be foolish to want to feel unique in this world with over 8 billion people but it’s a very satisfying thought. The other side of the coin was the painful realisation that I was just another music guy. 

To conclude, even as an artist who was making music for myself, I still felt preoccupied by what others thought of me. And even as an artist who has developed his technical abilities, I still fell prey to doubts. I’m not saying that I stopped forever, however this is how things are now.  

Cinematic encounter: Euzhan Palcy, a pioneer of Afro-Caribbean cinema, César and Oscar Winner 

Cinéma / TV, ,

“Honorary Oscar winner, 1st black female director produced by a major & woman director winner of a Cesar.” Here’s what can be found about Euzhan Palcy on social media. But who is this cinematic figure whose film Sugar Cane Alley has left a lasting impact on generations of West Indians and achieved international success? 

The birth of a filmmaker: artistic sensitivity and creative anger – The ingredients of a remarkable journey 

Euzhan Palcy is a French filmmaker born in Gros-Morne, Martinique, in 1958. When her name is mentioned, the first thing that often comes to mind is Sugar Cane Alley, the groundbreaking film she directed in 1983. 

But let’s take a step back and look at the journey that led her there. From a very young age, Euzhan Palcy displayed a deep artistic sensitivity. She painted, sang, and wrote poetry, but what fascinated her most—tying all her passions together—was the power of visual storytelling. She attributes this, in part, to the richness of West Indian culture, where storytelling and the marvelous play a central role. This fascination quickly turned into a love for cinema, inspired by filmmakers such as François Truffaut, Alfred Hitchcock, Orson Welles, Ingmar Bergman, Costa-Gavras, and Ousmane Sembène. 

What drove her to become a filmmaker was a certain creative anger, an unwillingness to accept the exclusion of Black voices in cinema. She wanted to give them a voice. 

In the 1970s, Euzhan Palcy moved to Paris. After earning a degree in literature, she studied at École Louis-Lumière. During this time, she met François Truffaut, who would become her mentor in the industry. 

Filming a landmark movie inspired by Joseph Zobel’s Sugar Cane Alley 

When Euzhan Palcy met François Truffaut, she already had the script for Sugar Cane Alley in hand. Truffaut advised her on the structure of the film and supported her project. He even tried to help her find a producer, an endeavor that proved far more difficult than expected. Financing a film that exposed what the French Republic preferred to forget, especially one directed by a young Black woman at the start of her career, was no easy task. Indeed, set in 1930s Martinique, the story follows young José, a boy raised by his grandmother M’man Tine. He lives in Sugar Cane Alley, a community built around the labor of sugarcane fields, controlled by the white béké elite. At its core, the film is a coming-of-age tale, capturing José’s adventures with his friends and his deep bond with his grandmother, whose greatest concern is his education. Her goal: to ensure he escapes the cycle of poverty. Though deeply rooted in the West Indian experience, Sugar Cane Alley is above all a story of love and intergenerational transmission. 

This was Euzhan Palcy’s first feature film. A demanding shoot involving 800 extras and a meticulously reconstructed historical setting. The film’s set design was the work of Hoang Thanh At (that we also know for his work on Asterix & Obelix: Mission Cleopatra). The cinematography was entrusted to Dominique Chapuis, a renowned director of photography who collaborated with Jean-Luc Godard, Jean Eustache, Claude Miller… The soundtrack was composed by the West Indian music group Malavoi. 

For her debut film, Euzhan Palcy received the Silver Lion for Best First Feature at the Venice Film Festival and the César Award for Best First Work, making her the first woman ever to win this award. Meanwhile, her lead actress, Darling Légitimus, won the Volpi Cup for Best Actress. 

An international career where the camera becomes a tool for change 

For Euzhan Palcy, the guiding principle of her work is freedom. After Sugar Cane Alley, she directed A Dry White Season, a powerful film about apartheid in South Africa which led her to meet Nelson Mandela. With this project, she became the first Black female filmmaker to be produced by a Major Hollywood studio and the first woman to direct the legendary Marlon Brando. The film earned her an Oscar nomination in 1990. She later went on to direct Siméon, The Ruby Bridges Story… 

She is often asked: Is your cinema political? For her, the real question is about humanity, telling universal stories, which, by nature, are political. She describes her work as a cinema of memory, transmission. 

In 2022, she received an Honorary Oscar, following a deeply moving tribute from American actress Viola Davis. 

Euzhan Palcy is a source of inspiration for many Black actors and filmmakers, but above all, she embodies an inspiring journey within French cinema. Her film Sugar Cane Alley will remain a “madeleine de Proust” for an entire generation. 

Elsa Dufour

Rencontre cinématographique : Euzhan Palcy, une pionnière du cinéma afro-caribéen, césarisée et oscarisée 

“Lauréate d’un Oscar d’honneur, première réalisatrice noire produite par un grand studio de cinéma et réalisatrice lauréate d’un César”. Voici ce qu’on peut lire sur les réseaux sociaux d’Euzhan Palcy. Mais qui est cette figure du cinéma dont le film Rue Cases-Nègres a marqué des générations d’Antillais et connu un succès public international ? 

Naissance d’une cinéaste : grande sensibilité artistique et colère créatrice, les ingrédients d’un parcours remarquable 

Euzhan Palcy est une réalisatrice française née au Gros-Morne en Martinique en 1958. La première chose qui nous vient en tête en évoquant son nom est peut-être ce film fondateur Rue Cases-Nègres qu’elle réalisa en 1983.  

Revenons d’abord sur le chemin qui l’a mené jusque-là. Très jeune, Euzhan Palcy fait preuve d’une grande sensibilité artistique. Elle peint, chante et écrit des poèmes mais ce qui la fascine et lie toutes ses passions c’est le pouvoir de l’image. Elle l’explique en partie par la richesse de la culture antillaise dans laquelle le merveilleux joue un rôle primordial par le biais des conteurs. C’est ainsi qu’elle se passionne très tôt pour le cinéma, inspirée entre autres par François Truffaut, Alfred Hitchcock, Orson Welles, Ingmar Bergman, Costa-Gavras, Ousmane Sembène… 

Ce qui la pousse à réaliser est une certaine colère qui s’avère être créatrice. Celle de ne plus supporter l’exclusion des Noirs dans le 7ème art. Elle veut donner une voix aux siens. 

Dans les années 1970, Euzhan Palcy s’installe à Paris. Après être diplômée de la faculté des lettres de Paris, elle étudie à L’Ecole Louis-Lumière. C’est à cette période qu’elle rencontre François Truffaut qui devient son parrain de la profession.  

Tournage d’un film décisif inspiré du roman de Joseph Zobel La Rue Cases-Nègres  

Quand elle rencontre François Truffaut, Euzhan Palcy a déjà le scénario de Rue Cases-Nègres. Il la conseille alors sur la structure de son film et la soutient dans son projet. Il tente de l’aider à trouver un producteur, mission qui s’est avérée beaucoup plus difficile que prévue. Financer un film qui montre ce que la République française tente d’oublier qui plus est réalisé par une jeune femme noire qui débute. En effet, cette histoire qui se déroule en Martinique dans les années 1930 est celle du petit José, un enfant élevé par sa grand-mère M’man Tine. Il vit dans la rue Cases-Nègres organisée autour du travail des champs de canne à sucre gérés et dominés par les békés. C’est avant tout le récit des aventures de ce garçon entouré de ses amis et de son lien avec sa grand-mère dont la principale préoccupation est la réussite scolaire de son petit-fils. Son but : qu’il échappe à la misère de sa condition. Cette histoire est celle des Antilles mais surtout une histoire d’amour et de transmission. 

Rue Cases-Nègres est le premier long métrage d’Euzhan Palcy. C’est un tournage éprouvant avec 800 figurants et un décor qui est une réelle reconstitution de l’époque. Ce travail est celui du chef décorateur Hoang Thanh At (connu aujourd’hui pour son travail sur le film Astérix et Obélix : Mission Cléopâtre). Le chef opérateur de ce film est Dominique Chapuis qui a travaillé avec les plus grands (Jean-Luc Godard, Jean Eustache, Claude Miller…). La bande originale est l’œuvre du groupe de musique antillais Malavoi. 

Pour ce premier film, Euzhan Palcy reçoit le Lion d’Argent du meilleur premier film à La Mostra de Venise et le César de la meilleure première œuvre. Elle est ainsi la première femme à recevoir cette récompense. Son actrice principale, Darling Légitimus, remporte quant à elle la coupe Volpi de la meilleure interprétation féminine. 

Une carrière internationale dans laquelle la caméra serre à mener des combats  

Le mot d’ordre d’Euzhan Palcy est la liberté. C’est le dénominateur commun de son œuvre. Après Rue Cases-Nègres, elle réalise Une Saison blanche et sèche qui traite de l’Apartheid en Afrique du Sud. Ce projet la fait rencontrer Nelson Mandela. Par ailleurs, elle devient la première réalisatrice noire à être produite par une major hollywoodienne et la première femme à diriger l’icône Marlon Brando. Elle est nommée aux Oscars en 1990. Elle réalise par la suite Siméon, Le Combat de Ruby Bridges… 

On lui pose souvent la question : Est-ce que votre cinéma est politique ? Pour elle, l’important est de parler de l’Homme et de questions universelles ce qui est forcément politique. Elle parle d’ailleurs de son cinéma comme un cinéma de mémoire, de transmission et de réhabilitation.  

En 2022, elle reçoit un Oscar d’Honneur introduit par un discours poignant de l’actrice américaine Viola Davis.  

Euzhan Palcy est ainsi une source d’inspiration pour beaucoup d’acteurs et réalisateurs noirs mais elle représente surtout un parcours inspirant du cinéma français. Son film Rue Cases-Nègres restera la madeleine de Proust de toute une génération. 

Elsa Dufour

Nantes and Quebec: why are there so many Quebec references in Nantes? 

Nantes Culture, Spectacle vivant

Initially, France and Quebec share many alliances and partnerships, such as the Fédération France-Québec, the Délégation générale du Québec à Paris and the l’Office franco-québécois pour la jeunesse (OFQJ). 

In Loire-Atlantique, Nantes shares many similarities with Quebec. These include a relaxed rhythm of life, a cultural axis (such as the Île de Nantes) and proximity to water (the Loire and St. Lawrence rivers, and even the Atlantic Ocean). However, there are also close cultural, economic and artistic ties between Nantes, Montreal and Quebec City.  

Nantes-Métropole and Its Links With Quebec 

For almost ten years, Nantes and Quebec have maintained strong ties through regular exchanges and exploratory missions. In fact, Nantes is the only French city to have a permanent physical presence in Montreal, facilitating cooperation between the two territories.  

The two cities share common values of innovation, inclusion and sustainable urban development, fostering collaborations in key sectors such as digital technologies, health and artificial intelligence, cultural and creative industries, food and sustainable cities. This cooperation is also reflected in cross-investment: France is the second-largest foreign investor in Quebec, and some 30 Quebec companies have operations in Nantes.  

Nantes’ cultural institutions have shown a keen interest in Quebec, as part of a policy of decentralized cooperation. For over a decade, Montreal, Nantes and Quebec City have been working closely together on issues such as climate change, digital responsibility and the cultural and creative industries. 

Digital and Cultural and Creative Industries: A Strategic Partnership 

This collaboration is reflected in cultural and economic projects such as the Montreal “Cultural Corridor”, inspired by the Voyage à Nantes, as well as the presence of a delegation of Nantes’ economic, academic and cultural players at several major Quebec events (Semaine numériQC, le Web à Québec [W@Q], Festival TransAmériques, Prix Numix). Organizations such as Trempo, Stereolux and Maison de la littérature de Québec join forces to create new initiatives. Digital initiatives illustrate this desire to build the future together, stemming from the hosting of the Quebec delegation at Nantes Digital Week in September 2024 and Nantes’ presence at MTL connect in October 2024. 

BIS Nantes and the Quebec Presence 

The Biennales Internationales du Spectacle (BIS) in Nantes is one of the largest entertainment markets in French-speaking Europe. In January 2023, a Quebec delegation of some 50 professionals, accompanied by attachés from the Délégation générale du Québec in Paris, took part. The aim was to identify new cultural and artistic trends, while strengthening exchanges with European players. 

BIS is a must-attend event for the performing arts sector (music, dance, comedy, circus, theater, young audiences). The extensive program includes conferences and workshops on cultural policies, emerging trends and international issues. 

Quebec participation, mainly from the music world, was coordinated by SODEC in partnership with Musicaction under the “Côte à Côte” banner. In addition, the Délégation générale du Québec en France and the OFQJ encourage the presence of young professionals, thus stimulating Franco-Quebec links. 

Grub’s up! 

Alongside all these partnerships, there are also several Quebecois restaurants in downtown Nantes. To help you (re)discover Quebec culture, here are 3 places to visit when you’re in Nantes: 

  1. Comptoir de Québec  

Right next to Place du Cirque, this fine grocery store offers a good selection of savoury (baked beans, poutine sauce, steak spices), sweet (tea and herbal teas, maple butter and cookies, pancake mix*) and alcoholic beverages (Unibroue beers, ice cider, Canadian whisky and vodka). It’s also a typical Quebec diner with hot dogs, smoked meat and coleslaw. Yum! In addition, this counter travels all over France, for summer and Christmas markets. So maybe you’ll be lucky enough to come across it elsewhere! 

  1. Comptoir à poutine 

On the Ile de Feydeau (near Château des ducs de Bretagne), this restaurant offers a variety of poutines! In addition to the “regular” poutine, other options include pulled pork, vegetarian or even with a French twist, such as smoked duck breast, creamed leeks, marinated beef and even pork cheeks. In addition, there’s a small grocery store stocked with several Quebec beverages (St-Ambroise beers, Coureur des bois whisky, Chic-Choc rum), maple syrup and its derivatives (caramel, candies). They also offer a catering service…!  

  1. Tabarnak 

A cozy little bar in the heart of downtown, right next to Commerce station, with several cocktails and shooters featuring a selection of Quebecois spirits. Gourmet treats include Camembert with maple syrup and cocktail sausages! 

Bonus: “Quebec culture” 

For those who don’t know, “tabarnak” is a Quebec swearword. We say “tabarnak”, not “tabernacle”. It’s the most intense of all Québécois swear words, used to refer (with gravity) to someone or something. The beauty of Quebec culture is that all these swear words are used positively or negatively, whatever the context, and can have variations (e.g. tabarouette).  

The best example to demonstrate the various contexts and variants of this swearword is this short video excerpt from the “Elvis Gratton” trilogy of Quebec cult films. Robert Gratton is an Elvis Presley impersonator from Montreal’s South Shore, and the whole trilogy is a satirical critique of Quebec’s peculiar political context and the caricature of the middle-class Québécois. For more on all the swear words, see the fine description of “ma prof de français”. 

Bon appétit and enjoy discovering the wonderful world of Quebec in Nantes! 

Cynthia Hétu

Nantes et le Québec ; pourquoi y a-t-il autant de liens québécois à Nantes ? 

Tout d’abord, la France et le Québec entretiennent de nombreuses alliances et partenariats, tels que la Fédération France-Québec, la Délégation générale du Québec à Paris et l’Office franco-québécois pour la jeunesse (OFQJ).  

En Loire-Atlantique, Nantes partage plusieurs points communs avec le Québec. On y retrouve notamment une certaine douceur de vivre, un axe culturel (comme l’île de Nantes) et une proximité avec l’eau (la Loire et le fleuve Saint-Laurent, et même l’océan Atlantique). Cependant, il existe également un lien étroit sur les plans culturel, économique et artistique entre Nantes, Montréal et la ville de Québec.  

Nantes-Métropole et ses liens avec le Québec 

Depuis près de dix ans, Nantes et le Québec entretiennent des liens forts grâce à des échanges réguliers et des missions exploratoires. Nantes est d’ailleurs la seule ville française à avoir une présence physique permanente à Montréal, facilitant ainsi la coopération entre les deux territoires.  

Les deux villes partagent des valeurs communes d’innovation, d’inclusion et de développement urbain durable, favorisant des collaborations dans des secteurs clés, tels que les technologies numériques, la santé et l’intelligence artificielle, les industries culturelles et créatives, l’alimentation et la ville durable. Cette coopération se reflète également dans les investissements croisés : la France est le deuxième investisseur étranger au Québec et une trentaine d’entreprises québécoises sont implantées à Nantes.  

Les institutions culturelles nantaises manifestent un vif intérêt pour le Québec, inscrit dans une politique de coopération décentralisée. Ainsi, depuis plus d’une décennie, Montréal, Nantes et Québec travaillent en étroite collaboration sur des sujets tels que le climat, le numérique responsable et les industries culturelles et créatives. 

Numérique et industries culturelles et créatives : un partenariat stratégique 

Cette collaboration se manifeste par des projets culturels et économiques, à l’image du « Corridor Culturel » de Montréal, inspiré du Voyage à Nantes, ainsi que par la présence d’une délégation d’acteurs économiques, académiques et culturels nantais à de nombreux événements québécois majeurs (Semaine numériQC, le Web à Québec [W@Q], Festival TransAmériques, Prix Numix). Des organismes tels que Trempo, Stereolux et la Maison de la littérature de Québec s’unissent pour créer de nouvelles initiatives. Des initiatives sur le numérique illustrent cette volonté de construire ensemble l’avenir, issu de l’accueil de la délégation québécoise à Nantes Digital Week en septembre 2024 et la présence nantaise à MTL connecte en octobre 2024. 

Les BIS de Nantes et la présence québécoise 

Les Biennales Internationales du Spectacle (BIS) de Nantes figurent parmi les plus grands marchés du spectacle en Europe francophone. En janvier 2023, une délégation québécoise d’une cinquantaine de professionnels, accompagnée d’attachés de la Délégation générale du Québec à Paris, y a participé. L’objectif était d’identifier les nouvelles tendances culturelles et artistiques, tout en renforçant les échanges avec les acteurs européens. 

Les BIS constituent un rendez-vous incontournable pour la filière des arts vivants (musique, danse, humour, cirque, théâtre, jeune public). La programmation dense comprend des conférences et des ateliers sur les politiques culturelles, les tendances émergentes et les enjeux internationaux. 

La participation québécoise, majoritairement issue du milieu de la musique, était coordonnée par la SODEC en partenariat avec Musicaction sous la bannière « Côte à Côte ». De plus, la Délégation générale du Québec en France et l’OFQJ encouragent la présence de jeunes professionnels, ce qui stimule les liens franco-québécois. 

À la bouffe! 

En parallèle à tous ces partenariats, il y a également plusieurs restaurants québécois dans le centre-ville nantais. Afin de mieux (re)découvrir la culture québécoise, voici 3 adresses à visiter lors de votre passage à Nantes : 

  1. Comptoir de Québec  

Tout près de la Place du Cirque, cette épicerie fine présente une bonne sélection de produits d’épicerie salée (fèves au lard, sauce à poutine, épices à steak), sucrée (thé et tisanes, beurre et biscuits d’érable, mélange à pancakes*) et une grande sélection d’alcool (bières Unibroue, cidre de glace, whisky et vodka Canadiens). Il s’agit également d’un petit restaurant typique d’un diner québécois avec des hot-dogs, du smoked meat avec salade de chou. Miam ! Aussi, ce comptoir se promène un peu partout en France, pour les marchés d’été et les marchés de Noël. Vous aurez donc peut-être la chance de le croiser ailleurs ! 

  1. Comptoir à poutine 

Sur l’île de Feydeau (près du Château des ducs de Bretagne), ce restaurant donne la possibilité de déguster plusieurs poutines ! Outre la poutine « regular » (régulière), d’autres options sont offertes, comme celles au porc effiloché, végétarienne ou même avec un twist français, comme celle au magret fumé, aux poireaux à la crème, au bœuf mariné, et même aux joues de porc. En plus, une petite épicerie avec plusieurs boissons québécoises (bières St-Ambroise, whisky Coureur des bois, rhum Chic-Choc), du sirop d’érable et ses dérivés (caramel, bonbons). Ils proposent également un service de traiteur… !  

  1. Tabarnak 

Un petit bar bien sympathique en plein centre-ville, tout près de la station Commerce, ayant plusieurs cocktails et shooters avec une sélection d’alcool québécois. Parmi les gourmandises disponibles ; du camembert au sirop d’érable et des petites saucisses cocktail ! 

Bonus « Culture québécoise »  
Pour ceux et celles qui ne le savent pas, « tabarnak » est un juron québécois. On dit bien « tabarnak » et non « tabernacle ». Dans l’ensemble des sacres québécois, il est le plus intense pour désigner (avec gravité) quelqu’un ou quelque chose. La beauté de la culture québécoise, c’est que tous ces jurons sont utilisés positivement ou négativement, peu importe le contexte, et peuvent avoir des variantes (ex. : tabarouette).  

Le meilleur exemple pour démontrer les divers contextes et variantes de ce juron est ce petit extrait vidéo tiré de la trilogie d’un film culte québécois « Elvis Gratton ». Robert Gratton est un imitateur d’Elvis Presley de la Rive-Sud de Montréal, et l’ensemble de cette trilogie critique de manière satirique le contexte politique particulier du Québec et les caractéristiques caricaturales du québécois de classe moyenne. Pour en savoir plus sur l’ensemble des jurons, voir la belle description de « ma prof de français ». 

Bon appétit et bonne découverte du merveilleux monde québécois à Nantes !  

Cynthia Hétu  

David Lynch, the disappearance of the master of art cinema

Cinéma / TV, , ,

French version below

January 2015. My family has a very specific ritual: every Saturday night, we used to watch a film or series. My parents suggested that my brother and I discover Twin Peaks. A simple pitch: Laura Palmer, a well-liked teenager, is found lifeless by the lake in Twin Peaks, a quiet town that hides many secrets. Little did I know at the time that this series would leave a deep impression on me.  

Ten years later, I enjoyed this cult series for a second time… only to learn in the following weeks that David Lynch had died. The news sounds a heartbreak for me. At the age of 78, he leaves behind a multitude of unanswered questions and a legacy that will remain forever elusive. His entire body of work is an enigma, still the subject of eternal theories and speculation.  

David Lynch was not initially destined to become a film director. He entered the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts with the firm intention of becoming a painter. Deeply inspired by the work of Francis Bacon, Lynch was already projecting onto his paintings the dark, anxiety-inducing world that would later appear in his films. At the end of the 1960s, he began making animated short films, which were gradually mixed with live action. His many experiments culminated in Eraserhead (1977), a nightmarish first feature in which he brought his darkest fears to life.  

His second film, Elephant Man (1980), is just as tragic, drawing heavily on the life of Joseph Merrick, a man with a deformed face. Nominated in eight categories at the Oscars, it marked the director’s public consecration. On the road to success, David Lynch was entrusted with the big-screen adaptation of Dune (1984), but his artistic demands diverged from commercial expectations. The film was cut by an hour, and received a great reception from both press and audience.  

Blue Velvet (1986) was Lynch’s revenge, since he had control over the entire project right up to the final cut. The film divided critics as much for its unhealthy, revolting eroticism as for its strangely surreal nature. In 1990, while his fifth feature Wild at Heart was winning the Palme d’Or at the 43rd Cannes Film Festival, the pilot for Twin Peaks was broadcast on ABC. Without knowing it, David Lynch was to revolutionize the universe of series by combining his cinematic vision with the TV format. The first episode was a huge hit with American households and worldwide. The series became a must-see, remained enigmatic, and the answers were not to be found either in the prequel Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me, released the following year, or in the third season, Twin Peaks: The Return, released in 2017.  

Lynch followed this up with Lost Highway (1997), The Straight Story (1999) and Mulholland Drive (2001), other projects with powerful symbolism, and the last one Inland Empire (2006), a return to his freer, more spontaneous beginnings. In it, he explores the dark side of Hollywood, portraying disembodied characters trapped in a merciless industry.  

If I had to sum up his cinema in a single word, “hors-norme” (literally out of the ordinary) would undoubtedly be the truest to his universe. David Lynch has never stopped thinking outside the box, playing with the rules of conventional narrative. The fact that his whole artwork so difficult to get is no accident. It is up to the viewer to put the pieces together and make their own interpretation. Like the Arte documentary David Lynch, une énigme à Hollywood (currently available), I would like to end this article with these words from David Lynch: “There is still so much to say, so many stories to tell. In the end, every life is a mystery until we find the key. We’re all heading in that direction, consciously or unconsciously.” 

Marie Damongeot

David Lynch, la disparition du maître du cinéma d’art

Janvier 2015. Ma famille a un rituel bien précis : chaque samedi soir, nous regardons un film ou une série. Mes parents proposent à mon frère et moi de découvrir alors Twin Peaks. Le pitch : Laura Palmer, une adolescente appréciée de tous, est retrouvée sans vie au bord du lac de Twin Peaks, une ville tranquille qui cache bien des secrets. J’ignore à ce moment-là que cette série me marquera viscéralement.  

Dix ans plus tard, je savoure une seconde fois cette série culte … avant d’apprendre dans les semaines suivantes que David Lynch est décédé. La nouvelle me fait l’effet d’un crève-cœur. A 78 ans, il laisse derrière lui une multitude de questions en suspens et un héritage à jamais  insaississable. Son œuvre entière est une énigme qui fait encore aujourd’hui l’objet d’éternelles théories et spéculations.  

David Lynch n’avait pourtant pas vocation à devenir réalisateur au départ. Il fait ses premiers pas à l’Académie des Beaux-Arts de Pennsylvannie avec la ferme intention de devenir artiste peintre. Profondément inspiré par l’œuvre de Francis Bacon, Lynch projette déjà sur ses tableaux un univers sombre et anxiogène que l’on retrouvera plus tard dans ses films. A la fin des années 1960, il entreprend de réaliser des court-métrages animés, puis progressivement mélés à des prises de vue réelles. Ses nombreuses expérimentations aboutissent à Eraserhead (1977), un premier-long métrage cauchemardesque dans lequel il donne vie à ses angoisses les plus noires.  

Son second film, Elephant Man (1980), est d’un registre tout aussi tragique, puisqu’il s’inspire largement de la vie de Joseph Merrick, un homme au visage difforme. Nommé dans huit catégories aux Oscars, il sonne la consécration publique du réalisateur. Engagé sur la voie du succès, David Lynch se voit confier l’adaption sur grand écran de Dune (1984), mais ses exigences artistiques divergent des attentes commerciales. Le film est amputé d’une heure et reçoit un accueil mitigé de la presse et des spectateurs.  

Blue Velvet (1986) apparaît alors comme la revanche de Lynch, qui a la main mise sur l’entièreté du projet jusqu’au final cut. Le film divise la critique autant par son érotisme malsain et révoltant que sa nature étrangement surréaliste. En 1990, tandis que la Palme d’Or du 43ème festival de Cannes est décernée à son cinquième long-métrage Sailor et Lula, le pilote de Twin Peaks est diffusé sur la chaîne ABC. Sans le savoir, David Lynch va révolutionner le monde des séries en conjuguant son regard de cinéaste au format TV. Le premier épisode rencontre un franc succès auprès des foyers américains et au-delà des frontières. Une série devenue incontournable qui restera néanmoins énigmatique, et dont on ne trouvera les réponses ni dans son prequel Twin Peaks : Fire Walk With Me sorti l’année suivante, ni dans sa troisième saison Twin Peaks : The Return sortie en 2017.  

Lynch poursuit sa lancée avec Lost Highway (1997), Une Histoire Vraie (1999) et Mulholland Drive (2001), autres projets à la symbolique puissante, puis finalement Inland Empire (2006), qui s’annonce comme un retour à ses débuts plus libres et spontanés. Il y explore la part d’ombre d’Hollywood en mettant en scène des personnages désincarnés et pris au piège d’une industrie sans merci.  

Si je devais résumer son cinéma, hors-norme serait sans doute le mot le plus fidèle à son univers. David Lynch n’a jamais cessé de sortir des sentiers battus en jouant avec les règles de la narration conventionnelle. Le fait que ses œuvres soient si difficilement déchiffrables n’a jamais été pensé au hasard. C’est au spectateur que revient la tâche (ou peut-être l’honneur ?) de rassembler les pièces du puzzle et de se faire sa propre interprétation. A l’instar du documentaire Arte David Lynch, une énigme à Hollywood (actuellement disponible), je terminerai cet article par ces paroles de David Lynch : « Il reste tant à dire, tant d’histoires à raconter. En fin de compte, chaque vie est un mystère jusqu’à ce que nous en trouvions la clé. On vogue tous vers cette direction, consciemment ou pas. » 

Marie Damongeot  

Techno Music And Evolution Of the Movement 

Musique, Non classé,

In the dimly lit warehouses of Detroit in the 1980s, a new sound emerged which would be fertile ground for contestation. Techno music was forged in the remnants of industrial decline and would be more than just an electronic rhythm. 

Detroit : The Cradle of Techno Music 

Detroit, a city once at the heart of America’s industrial American dynamic in the early 20th century with an era of establishment of major automotive companies like Ford, General Motors, and Chrysler., had fallen into economic ruin. Abandoned factories and rising unemployment became the backdrop for a generation of Black youth looking for an alternative future. Among them were Juan Atkins, Derrick May, and Kevin Saunderson (known as the Belleville Three) who were inspired by the mechanized rhythms of Kraftwerk, the synth-driven explorations of Giorgio Moroder, and the funk of Parliament-Funkadelic, they created a new sound: techno. 

For these pioneers, techno was of artistic expression of an Afrofuturist vision. By using drum machines like Roland TR-808 and synthesizer , initially designed for sequencing basslines and unwelcomed by the expected public, these producers turned for building hypnotic, psychedelic soundscapes bringing a more experimental and immersive way of dancing. 

From Underground to Global Movement 

While techno remained an underground movement in the U.S. during its early years, it found an eager audience in Europe, particularly in Berlin. The fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989 coincided with the explosion of electronic music culture in the city, where abandoned warehouses and bunkers became venues for hedonistic, post-Cold War raves. Techno became the soundtrack of reunification, symbolizing freedom from past divisions. 

At the same time, emerging in the late 1980s, acid house, with its hypnotic 303 basslines, became the backbone of the U.K.’s rave explosion. It fueled the rise of illegal warehouse parties and outdoor raves, challenging state control over public spaces. The government responded with the Criminal Justice Act (1994), which targeted raves and their « repetitive beats, » unintentionally reinforcing the music’s status as a symbol of defiance. Acid house also dismantled social barriers, uniting working-class youth, punks, and marginalized communities under a shared ethos of collective euphoria and resistance to Thatcherite neoliberalist conservatism. 

Techno and Counterculture: A Political Statement 

Throughout the 1990s and early 2000s, this underground movement turned into a tool of protestation. In the U.S., events like Reclaim the Streets turned techno sound systems into instruments of opposition against urban privatization, police repression and capitalist austerism. In Eastern Europe and Latin America, techno raves became spaces of political expression, challenging authoritarian governments and economic oppression as with the Czechtek festival in Czech Republic or Buenos Aires’ resistance raves in early 2000’s. 

The free party movement carried the ethos of techno as an act of defiance against corporate control over music and public spaces. Meanwhile, artists like Underground Resistance in Detroit infused their music with radical anti-capitalist and pro-Black liberation messages, reinforcing the genre’s political edge. 

The Rise of Corporate EDM and the Fragmentation of Techno 

By the late 2000s, the mainstream music industry had appropriated electronic music, transforming it into the commercial EDM (Electronic Dance Music) phenomenon. Festivals like Electric Daisy Carnival and Ultra Music Festival prioritized spectacle over subversion, making techno and its underground ethos less visible in popular culture. 

Since the COVID-19 pandemic, techno has undergone a significant transformation, accelerating its reappropriation by capitalist structures through social media. Platforms like Instagram and TikTok have depoliticized the genre, reducing it to a glossy, marketable aesthetic centered on mainstream festivals and celebrity DJs, stripping away its rebellious essence. The rise of algorithm-driven visibility favors viral artists and events, standardizing the music and prioritizing sponsorship deals over radical experimentation. Simultaneously, gentrification has reshaped club culture, with underground spaces being replaced by luxury venues and corporate-backed festivals, further alienating the grassroots communities that originally defined the movement. 

The evolution of this initial cultural and political contestation is one of many examples of how capitalism has been applying a strategy of reappropriation of underground movements to turn them into profit when it becomes developed and fertile enough. 

However, in the underground, the spirit of techno persists. DIY raves, community-run festivals, and independent labels continue to push the boundaries of the genre, ensuring that its roots in resistance and futurism remain intact.