3'38'', super 8, stereo, 2013
co-directed with mathilde gilot.
produced with the support of la petite marchande de films - caen - and regard indépendant - nice.
in those times i wasn’t yet a traveler. not a physical one at least cause in my head i sent myself in every corner of the world. in those times i was receiving letters directly in my brain and the one from tibet was the most important. i was asking myself what i could do with them, what i should do with them. he was writing me from so far and i had no picture to tell the story. so when he gave me the lyrics, asking me to do something with them : what could i do ?
I do not know how well I discovered tibet ... sometimes I wonder if there are not some vestiges of a forgotten life somewhere, a moment of childhood on which I can not put my hand. I got that impression that this country was always inside me but the first tangible memory I have is, as a teenager, the encounter with le bouddha d’azur, comic strip of the swiss author cosey (the very one to whom I would borrow a few years later the title of my film the blue space between the clouds. I’ve always been afraid that he ould be mad at me for that, it must be confessed !) It tells the story of a young man who is embroiled in the events that shake the tibet from 1949. I discovered the history of this forgotten country in a mixture of fear and disgust. it was in 2008, the year of the beijing olympic Ggames, that I found myself alone, in my room, boycotting. the act did not carry far but I was unable to do otherwise as the borders of the tibet closed and the demonstrations were repressed in the blood. this is the moment when I started to understand that i would not realize the dream of making a film in the region. it was the moment when I began to understand that the life of man had no value when it was placed before a contract and promises of growth.
but this tale of three tibetan days ? the one who arrived in direct connection in my heart and my brain. how could I tell it? there were no pictures at all. it was then necessary to invent them. it was probably not a gratuitous act, I knew it. how then not to betray? not to spoil or dirty memories? metaphor and allegory seemed to me the best means: not to reconstitute, not to try to recreate a veracity. to assume the fabrication, to show the artifice is already to say something, it is to emphasize the fact that indeed there are no images. the space created in this film is then at the crossroads of worlds: fiction, documentary? essay, simply. it was a matter of taking over an event of history and commenting on it, in the light of my sensitivity, my naive understanding.