"I seduced someone with this picture. I sent it to him, and he fell madly in love with it. With the photographer, that is."
I could listen to an artist talk about their art all day long (here in French no less), and this was made even more intriguing by the descriptions shifting about halfway through to no longer match the images, at least in a literal sense. Part of the film seems to reveal just how much we may not understand about a photo without such an intimate conversation, another part seems to raise questions of what we're willing to believe in trying to "get" art despite what's plainly in front of our eyes, which were fascinating sides of the same coin. The talented photographer, Alix Cléo Roubaud, someone whose work I would love to see in an exhibition someday, would die less than a year later at just 30, making this little short feel even more elusive and poignant.
I could listen to an artist talk about their art all day long (here in French no less), and this was made even more intriguing by the descriptions shifting about halfway through to no longer match the images, at least in a literal sense. Part of the film seems to reveal just how much we may not understand about a photo without such an intimate conversation, another part seems to raise questions of what we're willing to believe in trying to "get" art despite what's plainly in front of our eyes, which were fascinating sides of the same coin. The talented photographer, Alix Cléo Roubaud, someone whose work I would love to see in an exhibition someday, would die less than a year later at just 30, making this little short feel even more elusive and poignant.