publi\u00e9 simultan\u00e9ment en allemand et en anglais dans le catalogue de la 3eme biennale Film+Arc Gratz 1997<\/p>\n
Pendant longtemps, je me suis demand\u00e9 si le fait de filmer les villes relevaient d\u2019une activit\u00e9 cin\u00e9matographique particuli\u00e8re. Ces villes film\u00e9es, que j\u2019ai habit\u00e9, parcouru ou travers\u00e9, sont le reflet d\u2019une exp\u00e9rience sensible complexe. En effet, comme la plupart des cin\u00e9astes incluent dans cette s\u00e9rie, le rapport que nous entretenons \u00e0 l\u2019espace \u00e0 ceci d\u2019essentiel qu\u2019il refl\u00e8te avant tout notre mani\u00e8re d\u2019\u00eatre au monde, d\u2019habiter le monde \u00e0 tel moment donn\u00e9; et ceci, par del\u00e0 la multiplicit\u00e9 de nos \u00e9critures. La ville, au cin\u00e9ma n\u2019est jamais un espace anonyme. Elle est toujours affirmation d\u2019une subjectivit\u00e9 par le regard port\u00e9 sur cet espace publique \/ priv\u00e9 autant que par son traitement.<\/p>\n
Etre au monde c\u2019est avant tout prendre la mesure d\u2019un espace personnel vis \u00e0 vis d\u2019un espace publique. Cette mesure se retrouve dans le rapport que nous entretenons avec l\u2019histoire, la n\u00f4tre aussi bien que celle des lieux et des espaces qui nous constituent autant, que nous les produisons. Le cin\u00e9ma s\u2019av\u00e8re \u00eatre \u00e0 cet \u00e9gard, un outil privil\u00e9gi\u00e9 dans le fa\u00e7onnage de tels espaces mentaux (priv\u00e9s et publiques).<\/p>\n
Filmer l\u2019espace c\u2019est un peu comme arr\u00eater le temps, ou plus exactement c\u2019est tenter de saisir le flot d\u2019un fleuve. C\u2019est dans ce sens que les jardins de Tivoli film\u00e9s par Kenneth Anger dans <\/span><\/span>Eaux d\u2019artifices<\/i><\/span><\/span> (1953) sont exemplaires. Ce jardin d\u2019eau se joue de diff\u00e9rents aspects organiques afin de solidifier l\u2019eau en des sculptures bouillonnantes, fr\u00e9missants au vent et \u00e0 la course folle d\u2019une chim\u00e8re virevoltante. Le solide devient liquide avant que de s\u2019affirmer comme poussi\u00e8re lumineuse bleue.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n Lorsqu\u2019on filme des villes on est toujours emport\u00e9 par des images parasites, par des fant\u00f4mes qui viennent interf\u00e9rer ou prennent possession de l\u2019espace que l\u2019on repr\u00e9sente. Il ne faudrait pas penser que de telles images fant\u00f4mes soient uniquement n\u00e9gatives, se seraient se m\u00e9prendre; elles sont parfois des r\u00e9miniscences de l\u2019enfance ou de temps r\u00e9volus et dont nous faisons l\u2019exp\u00e9rience qu\u2019au travers de celles-ci. Que l\u2019on songe au New York de Jonas Mekas (<\/span><\/span>Walden<\/i><\/span><\/span>) dans lequel la nature et l\u2019enfance sont si pr\u00e9sents que l\u2019on finit par se demander parfois, si il s\u2019agit bien de New York et non pas d\u2019un pan de Lituanie parachut\u00e9 \u00e0 Manhattan. Cette repr\u00e9sentation de la ville est paradoxale puisqu\u2019elle s\u2019effectue au moment o\u00f9 l\u2019adh\u00e9rence, s\u2019agit-il d\u2019une croyance, \u00e0 cette ville est la plus l\u00e2che, quasiment suspendu au souffle d\u2019une \u00e2me. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n Il n\u2019y a pas d\u2019espaces vierges qui n\u2019auraient pas \u00e9t\u00e9 spoli\u00e9s par des clich\u00e9s et diff\u00e9rents mirages dont on est plus ou moins conscient.<\/p>\n D\u2019autres fois, les lieux sont tellement charg\u00e9s d\u2019histoire qu\u2019il est impossible de ne pas la voir, les camps de concentration en sont l\u2019un des exemples les plus frappants que d\u00e9crivent <\/span><\/span>Nuits et brouillards<\/i><\/span><\/span> d\u2019Alain Resnais ou <\/span><\/span>Cooperation of Parts<\/i><\/span><\/span> (1987) de Daniel Eisenberg. Les cicatrices des corps chez Alain Fleisher sont aussi lisibles \u00e0 m\u00eame le sol des villes. Cependant, ces cicatrices n\u2019appartiennent pas qu\u2019au pass\u00e9; c\u2019est ce que nous montre tr\u00e8s bien Alain Resnais, Jean Luc Godard, Jean Marie Straub, ou Chantal Ackerman dans certains de leurs films. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n Des \u00e9paisseurs d\u2019images, d\u00e9coupent les villes selon des architectures fuyantes; suite de travellings s\u2019embo\u00eetant les uns les autres chez <\/span><\/span>Chicago Loops<\/i><\/span><\/span> (1976) de James Benning, <\/span><\/span>Non, je ne regrette rien<\/i><\/span><\/span> (1984) de Gustav Deutsch, <\/span><\/span>Seeing in the Rain<\/i><\/span><\/span> (1981) de Chris Gallager ou <\/span><\/span>Nichschennichsehen<\/i><\/span><\/span> (1993) de Jan Peters ou <\/span><\/span>Hightway<\/i><\/span><\/span> (1958) d\u2019Hilary Harris. Cette syncope spatiale s\u2019oppose \u00e0 un autre usage des travellings qui \u00e9tire le temps jusqu\u2019\u00e0 le dissoudre comme on peut l\u2019\u00e9prouver dans <\/span><\/span>Eureka<\/i><\/span><\/span> 197 d\u2019 Ernie Gehr ou <\/span><\/span>Chicago<\/i><\/span><\/span> (1996)Jurgen Reble. La ville devient la mati\u00e8re \u00e9mulsive.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n Les villes d\u2019Italie ou bien New York jouissent d\u2019une aura incroyable pour de nombreux cin\u00e9astes. Mais, pour chaque cin\u00e9aste, filmer de telles villes revient \u00e0 prendre en charge, d\u2019une mani\u00e8re ou d\u2019une autre (en toute connaissance de cause ou alors par simple ignorance), l\u2019histoire des repr\u00e9sentations de ces villes au travers du m\u00e9dium utilis\u00e9. Ainsi \u00e0 l\u2019ombre de chaque nouvelle vision peut en surgir d\u2019autres, qui nous emportent vers d\u2019autres rivages, visages ou paysages. L\u2019\u00e9vocation qui n\u2019est pas une citation devient l\u2019objet de pr\u00e9dilection des cin\u00e9astes \u00e0 la recherche d\u2019un temps, d\u2019un personnage disparu. On pense ici principalement \u00e0 <\/span><\/span>The Fallen World <\/i><\/span><\/span>(1983) de Majorie Keller et <\/span><\/span>L\u2019appartement de la rue de Vaugirard <\/i><\/span><\/span>(1975) Christian Boltanski. De m\u00eame le recours \u00e0 la reprise d\u2019un motif : le pont; doit s\u2019appr\u00e9hender comme un hommage \u00e0 un ma\u00eetre; c\u2019est dans ce sens qu\u2019il faut comprendre le film de Jakobois sur les ponts d\u2019Asni\u00e8res; un hommage \u00e0 Van Gogh.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n De m\u00eame la vision impressionniste de Paul Strand dans <\/span><\/span>Manhatta<\/i><\/span><\/span> (1921) se retrouve au d\u00e9tour de quelques plans du film de Chantal Ackerman par del\u00e0 les transformations successives de Manhattan. Fascination pour le Meat Market, pour le d\u00e9barcad\u00e8re du Staten Island Ferry… <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n Des lieux d\u00e9j\u00e0 film\u00e9s sont revisit\u00e9s, j\u2019ai refilm\u00e9, dans <\/span><\/span>Amoroso<\/i><\/span><\/span> (1983) les jardin de Tivoli, mais pour inscrire une diff\u00e9rence suppl\u00e9mentaire les jeux d\u2019eaux et de mati\u00e8res se donnent dans les tonalit\u00e9s rouges et les visions de Rome \u00e9voquent celles des <\/span><\/span>Homes Movie – Rome, Florence;, Venise<\/i><\/span><\/span> (1965) de Taylor Mead. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n De m\u00eame l\u2019espace film\u00e9 peut nous permettre de nous rem\u00e9morer et dans ce sens la fiction de la repr\u00e9sentation, donc son interpr\u00e9tation devient la trace d\u2019un au-del\u00e0 que nous convoquons simultan\u00e9ment confrontant les exp\u00e9riences au moment ou l\u2019une d\u2019elle advient; c\u2019est ainsi que travaille <\/span><\/span>Son nom de Venise dans Calcutta d\u00e9sert;<\/i><\/span><\/span> comme envers du d\u00e9cor d\u2019<\/span><\/span>India Song.<\/i><\/span><\/span> Le second film permettant au souvenir de surgir dans son \u00e9clatante fragilit\u00e9. Pur \u00e9v\u00e9nement s\u2019il en est, le film dispose de notre souvenir afin de faire \u00e9clore au travers du palais effondr\u00e9 ce que veut dire \u00eatre sous le coup d\u2019une passion amoureuse. Le d\u00e9laissement et l\u2019abandon s\u2019inscrivent dans les lieux laisser \u00e0 l\u2019abandon, presque un terrain \u00e0 d\u00e9chiffrer autant qu\u2019\u00e0 d\u00e9fricher.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n La ville comme tombeau de l\u2019image propose des concr\u00e9tions de surfaces dans lesquels les premiers plans s\u2019\u00e9panouissent au moment de leur dissolution. Les cimeti\u00e8res comme lieu du temps suspendu; permettent d\u2019\u00e9voquer plus facilement le r\u00e9volu, le distant. Ils sont aussi des espaces urbains particuli\u00e8rement f\u00e9cond pour l\u2019errance de l\u2019imagination. Pourvoyeurs d\u2019\u00e9motions ils sont les catalyseurs d\u2019images, voir <\/span><\/span>The Dead<\/i><\/span><\/span> (USA) de Stan Brakhage ou le film Majorie Keller ainsi que ceux du groupe M\u00e9troBarbes Rochechouart r\u00e9alis\u00e9 au cimeti\u00e8re du P\u00e8re Lachaise.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n Au d\u00e9tour d\u2019une rue surgit l\u2019histoire, autant par les traces de monuments engloutis, conserv\u00e9s ou restaur\u00e9s que par leur disparition. Ici les films <\/span><\/span>Premonition<\/i><\/span><\/span> (1995) de Dominic Angerame, <\/span><\/span>Les Antiquit\u00e9s de Rome <\/i><\/span><\/span>(1989) de Jean Claude Rousseau, <\/span><\/span>Verlassen; Verloren Einsam, Kalt (Missa Solemnis)<\/i><\/span><\/span> (1990) de Klaus Wyborny sont exemplaires de telles disparitions et du malaise qu\u2019elles d\u00e9clenchent dans notre \u00eatre au monde. Mais ces lieux eux-m\u00eames sont ins\u00e9parables des \u00e9v\u00e9nements qui s\u2019y sont d\u00e9roul\u00e9s. \u00c9v\u00e9nements banals, quotidiens, comme dans les films d\u2019Alain Fleischer, autant qu\u2019historique. Ce bouillonnement de l\u2019histoire est telle que certaines villes sont hant\u00e9es par le souvenir d\u2019images film\u00e9s qui finissent par la signifier. La ville vol\u00e9e par ses images m\u00eames devient source de m\u00e9prise et d\u2019errance, \u00e0 la recherche d\u2019un espace neutre.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n Mais on a pas besoin d\u2019aller loin, il suffit de filmer une chambre, un appartement, une place dans une ville quelconque pour que se manifeste une indicible alt\u00e9rit\u00e9, le surgissement d\u2019un autre temps qui vient \u00e9clore \u00e0 la surface de l\u2019\u00e9cran. Je pense \u00e0 <\/span><\/span>One Second in Montreal<\/i><\/span><\/span> (1969) de Michael Snow, <\/span><\/span>Spacy<\/i><\/span><\/span> (1980) de Takasha Ito, <\/span><\/span>Maas Observation<\/i><\/span><\/span> (1997) de Karel Doing et Gregg Pope. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n Errance des cin\u00e9astes autant que des spectateurs qui ne voient les villes qu\u2019\u00e0 travers des amoncellements d\u2019images de ces m\u00eames villes; <\/span><\/span>De Maasbruggen<\/i><\/span><\/span> (1938) de Paul Schuitema, <\/span><\/span>U. S. S. A<\/i><\/span><\/span> (1987) de Vivian Ostrovsky et<\/span><\/span>Dreaming in Yellow While Searching Carpaccio’s Gold <\/i><\/span><\/span>(1990) d\u2019Andrea Kirsch fonctionnent comme des catalyseurs; ils r\u00e9percutent des plans, des s\u00e9quences. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n La ville s\u2019\u00e9croule. La m\u00e9moire nous joue des tours et nous fait parcourir des villes dans lesquels nous sommes et n\u2019iront jamais, mais que nous connaissons cependant si bien comme c\u2019est le cas dans <\/span><\/span>Wei weit weg<\/i><\/span><\/span> (1995) de Bjorn Melhus. De leur c\u00f4t\u00e9 les cin\u00e9aste fa\u00e7onnent des villes que nous sommes toujours pr\u00eats \u00e0 arpenter les yeux ferm\u00e9s, avec d\u00e9lectation ou frayeur. Les plus beaux voyages ne sont-ils pas ceux que l\u2019on fait sur place, \u00e0 l\u2019image d\u2019un touriste sans bagage, qui aurait pour tout guide : Joseph Cornell. <\/span><\/span><\/p>\n Et pourtant jamais je ne cesserai de filmer certaines villes, New York, Paris ou Venise; afin de les d\u00e9couvrir et de m\u2019y perdre inlassablement. Rapporter, ramener la ville nous renvois toujours dans l\u2019instant \u00e0 ce pass\u00e9 qu\u2019on a pas encore v\u00e9cu.\u00a0<\/span><\/span>yann beauvais<\/p>\n Remembrances – Visible Cities English text<\/em><\/p>\n For quite some time I have asked myself whether filming cities stems from a particular form of cinematographic activity. The filmed towns which I have inhabited or traversed reflect a complex sensory experience. Most of the filmmaker in this series are agreed that the relation we have to space reflects our way of being in this world at any given time – we concur, despite the multiplicity of our imageries. The city in film is never an anonymous space. It always confirms a subjectivity that develops from looking at this private and public space as well as from one’s dealing with it.<\/p>\n Being in this world means, above all, measuring out a personal space vis-\u00e0-vis a public space. This measuring is based on the relationship we have to history – our own history as well as that of places and spaces which, one the one hand, turn us into what and who we are and which we, on the other hand, produce ourselves. In this respect, film proves to be a privileged tool in the forming and shaping of such (private and public) mental spaces.<\/p>\n Filming space is somewhat like desiring to halt time or, more precisely, the flow of a river; in this sense, the Gardens of The Villa d’Este filmed by Kenneth Anger at Tivoli are exemplary. This water garden pays no heed to the different organic aspects when it casts water to frothing sculptures which tremble in the wind and in the wake of a whirling fantasy. What seemed solid a moment ago becomes liquid before turning into luminous blue dust. When filming cities one always lets oneself swept away by parasitic images, by phantoms which come to interfere with or take possession of the portrayed space. One should not assume that such phantom images are always to be judged negatively – that would be a mistake; there are sometimes reminiscences of childhood or of times passed which we may experience solely via these images. One need only think of the New York of Jonas Mekas in which nature and childhood are so present that one sometimes comes to ask oneself whether it is, actually, about New York and not perhaps about some sections of Lithuania transplanted to Manhattan. This representation of the city is paradoxical since it occurs precisely at that moment in which contact with this city -and be it only the belief in this contact- is at its slackest, virtually suspended in the breath of a soul.<\/p>\n There are no virgin spaces; there are no places which have not yet been spoilt by clich\u00e9s and various, more or less conscious, illusions.<\/p>\n In some cases the spaces are so replete with history that it is impossible not to see it; the concentration camp as described by Alain Resnais or Daniel Eisenberg are one of the most striking examples. The scarred bodies in Alain Fleicher’s films are also readable on the pavement of the city. However these scars are not only part of the past -that is what Alain Resnais, Jean Luc Godard, Jean Marie Straub or Chantal Akerman have demonstrated to us unequivocally in some of their films.<\/span><\/p>\n Images of various intensities cut the cities into series of architectures; James Benning, Gustav Deutsch, Chris Gallagher or Jan Peters dovetail camera panning sequences. This spatial syncopation contrasts with another kind of camera-travelling which stretches time until it dissolves, as one can witness in the films by Ernie Gehr or J\u00fcrgen Reble. The city becomes filmic matter, emulsive matter.<\/span><\/p>\n Italian cities or New York hold an unbelievable aura for numerous film makers. But for each of them, filming such cities amount to, knowingly or unknowingly, looking into the history of the representation of the city by means of the given medium. Thus, in the shadow of each new vision others can arise which carry us towards other shores, faces or landscapes. Cineasts searching for a remembrance of things past or of a lost characters are particularly fond of falling back on an allusion which is not a quotation, like, for example, Marjorie Keller and Christian Boltanski. Similarly, the recurrent use of motifs, such as the bridge, is to be understood as an homage to a master; in this sense that the film by Jakobois about the bridges of Asni\u00e8res is an homage to Van Gogh. <\/span><\/p>\n The impressionist vision of Paul Strand is, likewise, to be found in panning shots in some of the takes in the film by Chantal Akerman beyond successive transformations of Manhattan. The fascination for the Meat Market, for the quay of the Staten Island Ferry\u2026<\/span><\/p>\n Places already filmed are revisited: I filmed the Gardens of the Villa d’Este anew, but in order to make further difference apparent the play on water and the playing are kept in hues of red and views of Rome are reminiscent of those by Taylor Mead. The film space can enable us to recollect, and, in this sense, the fiction of the representation, that is, its interpretation becomes a trace of a beyond which we conjure our minds, and, at the same time, we compare these experiences with the moment in which one of them occurs: in this regard, Son nom de Venise dans Calcutta d\u00e9sert serves as the opposite of the setting of India Song; thereby, the second film allows for memory in all it’s amazing fragility. As a pure event, if it is that, the film commands our memory in order to expound through the broken down palace what it means \u00ab\u00a0to be a passionately loved\u00a0\u00bb. The unattended places convey a sense of desertedness and abandonment – a space to be deciphered and cultivated. <\/span><\/p>\n The city as a tomb of the image implies the thickening and hardening of the surfaces which unfold as a foreground the instant they dissolve. The cemeteries as place of suspended time enable us to remember more easily the time gone, the distant. They are also especially fertile urban spaces for the imagination. As providers of emotions they are the catalyzers of images, for example, in the film of Stan Brakhage or Marjorie Keller as well as in those by the group \u00ab\u00a0M\u00e9tro Barbes Rochechou Art\u00a0\u00bb group that were filmed in the \u00ab\u00a0P\u00e8re Lachaise\u00a0\u00bb cemetery.<\/span><\/p>\n Et the turn in the street, history arises indicated the traces of engulfed, preserved or restored monuments as well as by their disappearance. Here the works by Dominic Angerame, Jean Claude Rousseau and Klaus Wyborny are exemplary for these disappearances and for the malaise they introduce into our being in this world. The places themselves, however, are inseparable from the events which took place here. These may be trivial, everyday events (as in the films by Alain Fleischer), but also historical ones. This vortex of history is so powerful that some cities are practically haunted by the memory of images filmed there, images without which the city might not have any significance at all. In search of a neutral space, the city plundered by these same images easily falls prey to contempt and vagabonding.<\/span><\/p>\n One need not to go far though:<\/p>\n It suffices to film a room, an apartment, a square in any city for an unspeakable alterity to manifest itself, for another time to appear which unfolds on the surface of the screen – I am thinking of the films by Michael Snow, Takashi Ito, Karel Doing and Gregg Pope.<\/span><\/p>\n The film makers ramble as much as the viewers do who only see the cities through the accumulation of images of these same cities: the films of Paul Schuitema, Vivian Ostrovsky and Andrea Kirsch function like catalyzers; they reflect the takes, the sequences.<\/span><\/p>\n The city collapse. Our memories play tricks on us and have us run through cities in which we have never been and never will be but which we, however, know so well. The film makers shape the cities we are ready, at all times, to survey with closed eyes, delighting in them or abhorring them. The loveliest journeys -aren’t they the ones we go on our minds, like tourists without any baggage and with Joseph Cornell as the guide?<\/span><\/p>\n And yet, I will never cease to film certain cities – New York, Paris or Venice – in order to discover theme and to lose myself there tirelessly. When we tell of the city and let it rise in our mind’s eye, at that very moment, we experience a past we have not yet lived.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" publi\u00e9 simultan\u00e9ment en allemand et en anglais dans le catalogue de la 3eme biennale Film+Arc Gratz 1997 Pendant longtemps, je me suis demand\u00e9 si le fait de filmer les villes relevaient d\u2019une activit\u00e9 cin\u00e9matographique particuli\u00e8re. Ces villes film\u00e9es, que j\u2019ai habit\u00e9, parcouru ou travers\u00e9, sont le reflet d\u2019une exp\u00e9rience sensible complexe. En effet, comme la […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[6,8],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1015","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-ecrits","category-essais"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/yannbeauvais.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1015","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/yannbeauvais.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/yannbeauvais.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/yannbeauvais.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/yannbeauvais.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1015"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/yannbeauvais.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1015\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1124,"href":"https:\/\/yannbeauvais.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1015\/revisions\/1124"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/yannbeauvais.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1015"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/yannbeauvais.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1015"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/yannbeauvais.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1015"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}