Diary from Erotic Man shooting in Paris 1
Sunday, late night. We've had dinner at Restaurant Christine in Rue Christine. Afterwards, we sit in a café corner, talking. We see two young girls, one of them reminding us of Mona Lisa. Adam is fascinated by her and wants to photograph her. I say: 'so go and aks her'. He has to gain a bit of courage for that but finally he does it. I can see them listening to him. I approach them.
Monday night. We go to mk2 at Quai de Loire. There are two mk2 cinemas, one on each side of the channel. I remember in which one I met Makena. We sit at a café across the channel, waiting for the lights to dim and the street-lights to be switched on. Chantal joins us. Later, Anne Lescot and her (and David Belle's) son join us. We sit and talk. Anne leaves. Chantal stays and keeps an eye on Adam's bag while we get started. I am to walk along the bank, over a foot-bridge, past a fountain, underneath a vaulted passageway on the other bank towards the café. Adam makes stop motion pictures of me walking, thus creating a narrative with the help of his new fantastic camera. After being granted permission to film inside, I enter the café. I walk towards the table where I met Makena nine years ago. I sit down. Adam finishes the narrative in pictures. This is where we part. I take Chantal out for dinner in Rue Mabillon, Aux Charpentiers. Adam is meeting with the two English girls we met on Sunday night. One of them is Mona Lisa.
Tuesday. I look through Adam's photographs of the girls, taken Monday night on the bridge Pont des Arts which is the next one after Pont Neuf, crossing the Seine from Ile de Cité. A fantastic series of pictures, close to magic, the girls surrounded by gold, glittering contours, lines, water, buildings, passing diffuse cyclists. I come to think of the old impressionists. We don't want to hear what the girls are saying, just look at them not knowing what they talk about. Mona Lisa's name is Amelia, her friend with a hat, Artemis. Amelia's hair is scrutinized, her profile, her beautifully drawn mouth and chin. We have permission to get close, we thrive in the sense of permission. From one focus to another. The woman knows the photographer is watching, we are allowed to do so. She drinks a cup of coffee, we get to see her forehead. A profile of Mona Lisa on a bridge across the Seine. Eyebrows, eyes and the delicate skin. In a slightly larger frame, the street-lights on both sides of the river play along. Her hand on the railing. She has a firm grip and so she is in control of herself. Magic moments.