/ INTRODUCTION
/ GALERIE SATOR-PARIS, 2019
/ PERFORMANCE ON THE SHOOTING LOCATION
Some twenty people have responded favorably to the call for participation in an artistic event of which they know nothing except that it’s called Tout est vrai. We meet at a café where we enjoy a coffee and croissant. A few questions about what’s to come are asked, which we’re keeping secret.
It’s almost 10 o’clock when we invite the participants to follow us. A few minutes’ walk and we’re in front of the Agence du court-métrage, in the Agence’s projection room. The screening of Tout est vrai begins.
Fifty-two minutes later, as we leave the cinema, several cabs await the participants, who are whisked away to an anonymous neighborhood nearby, at the foot of a grand staircase that leads us to the scene of the story, the slab where Pablo was killed. And as we walk along the slab, Pablo appears, immersed in his music, just as we saw him in the film we’ve just left, which tells the story of his disappearance.
On the slab that day, nothing will happen. On the slab, under the gaze of the participants, Pablo will tirelessly go back and forth, his headphones riveted to his ears, his lips moving with the music he’s repeating. We’ll have to say, softly, to those watching him: we’ll leave him, now.
We accompany the participants to the foot of the tower, on the slab. In the elevators to the 23rd floor. On the 23rd floor, a door is open. In the apartment where participants are invited to enter, Zoé, Thomas and Félix are working, one on her novel, the other on his sculpture, the last on his photographs. Participants weave between them, observing their work. Melancholic music fills the space. Nothing will happen here either. Time to go. We leave them. We leave the apartment, we leave the building, we leave the film, for the second time.
/ READING, FESTIVAL COTE COURT / SILENCIO
/ MUSIQUE TO ACCOMPANY THE READING