Each portrait of this series consists of an interview between Alain Cavalier and a woman working in a rare or disappearing profession. At their place of work, they talk about their craft and the techniques they use, their training and their history, their tastes and their daily lives. These intimate documentary portraits reveal astonishing personalities and surprising work environments.
Directors | Alain Cavalier, Alain Cavalier |
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"We are passionate about the works of our fellow human beings, avidly seeking in them the traces of the spectacles that inhabit our gaze at every moment, of our obsessive daily prehensions, of what, throughout our lives, falls under our senses at every step. And it's: a torn poster, a shiny piece of canvas, a rusty iron, a muddy road, a lid smeared with coaltar. A storefront painted pine-green, a variegated billboard, an inscription in the street and traces and traces, marks, chances, as our human dwellings and cities are full of them, that's what the painter must record as he goes along and fix and assimilate and restore in his works."
This text by Jean Dubuffet is from L'homme du commun à l'ouvrage. Rereading it, one wonders if Cavalier isn't a bit of a painter himself: filming nails, deformations, jewelry, writing, voice. Capturing the bent wheels, the little anecdotes, the illnesses, the past. Everything that makes up each person's "way of sounding", as Marie so beautifully puts it. It's the sharp look she gives her knives, the smoke from her cigarette and Lake Geneva on which she writes her name. It's the iridescence that strikes us, the mist that reaches out to us.
Rémi Journet
Tënk's editorial assistant
"We are passionate about the works of our fellow human beings, avidly seeking in them the traces of the spectacles that inhabit our gaze at every moment, of our obsessive daily prehensions, of what, throughout our lives, falls under our senses at every step. And it's: a torn poster, a shiny piece of canvas, a rusty iron, a muddy road, a lid smeared with coaltar. A storefront painted pine-green, a variegated billboard, an inscription in the street and traces and traces, marks, chances, as our human dwellings and cities are full of them, that's what the painter must record as he goes along and fix and assimilate and restore in his works."
This text by Jean Dubuffet is from L'homme du commun à l'ouvrage. Rereading it, one wonders if Cavalier isn't a bit of a painter himself: filming nails, deformations, jewelry, writing, voice. Capturing the bent wheels, the little anecdotes, the illnesses, the past. Everything that makes up each person's "way of sounding", as Marie so beautifully puts it. It's the sharp look she gives her knives, the smoke from her cigarette and Lake Geneva on which she writes her name. It's the iridescence that strikes us, the mist that reaches out to us.
Rémi Journet
Tënk's editorial assistant
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