We were told we could go film in an outdoor art center. We wrote poetry. We read it. We filmed it. The next page you will see another clip from our shoot.
Our map of the Vents des Forets to navigate the hikes in the art center and find the artworks we were looking for. A polaroid of a filming site puddle. The poem I wrote and read in the forest for the sake of this film.
intermediate version of film for now,
enjoy
The meeting point was outside our annex building, and I called them through a window upstairs for them to come up and meet me. After greeting everyone, I kicked things off with an icebreaker—a group translation of the Patti Smith song « Gloria. » I had printed the lyrics and laid them out on the chimney, asking each person to translate one word. To guide them upstairs and show them my friends’ artworks, we played a game of “I Spy.” As we moved through the exhibit, transitioning from one student’s work to another, I kept the energy up with either a game suggestion or a group discussion. When we left the annex to see the final part of our exhibit projected on the building wall across from us, I handed out postcards featuring memories of the building that had meant so much to us over the years. I asked everyone to write a postcard as a way of saying goodbye.
Song credits to Patti Smith
Scans of illustrated fanzines and translated songs from english to french (yes, literally)
Currently at #3
#3 special edition: Rois de Léon
Photography book of a camera lost between countries and poems lost in translation
Selection of writing pieces from Lost in trans-it-lating.
Writing pieces on pieces of paper.
Pieces of paper you can move around the book,
as you read, as you please.
idiom. : to fail to have the same meaning or effectiveness when it is translated into another language.
Do you know where you anchor yourself
Is it point A or point B in a country sense
Is it point A, B, C, D, or E city wise
Or is it the extensive street-wise?
Le sais-tu?
Malgré que tu ait quitté ces lieux il y maintenant des années pour certains, que les détails ont été lissés pour d’autres et même radiés pour la plupart.
Ce lissage si trompeur qui rend ces passages si appealing et dorés pour les plus anciens et moins désagréables pour les plus récents.
Ce lissage entreteneur de mythes. D’idéal. De sacralisation. De safe haven. Of childhood. Before teenage hood.
Teenage hood where every opportunity to delve back was seized eagerly almost desperately.
Accompanied by the flatness of what you now lived inside of, the void of teenage hood.
It wasn’t the first time you changed schools so despite being a shy child, it wasn’t much of a problem. For 2 days it was complicated but like everyone who is new, that was no news. Pour tous les nouveaux, ce n’est pas des nouvelles.
Autour d’un arbre tu as tourné en rond jusqu’à ce qu’on t’arrête. Et là ce n’est qu’en y repensant des années plus tard que tu te prends la claque imaginaire du siècle, le coup de pied retourné qui t’a cassé le nez plus tard: “ça te dirait d’être notre amie, parce qu’on en a parlé à notre mère et elle nous a dit que ce serait cool d’avoir une amie américaine!”
“Oh you’re French wow that’s so cool, could you say something in French?” As your English teacher from highschool once said, Americans find the French, and especially the French accent very “sexy”. Proof is all of the English language’s sexy expressions come from French. No translations were fit enough to express the Latin ways.
You never come from where you are at the moment. You’re always exotic. And a good English homework helper.
Speaking of latin ways. You have another funny story. One where, as you were introduced to friends of your new friends one wanted to greet you in the “circle” in which they were both in their minds and physically, she got up from her seated position, and she “turned her cheek” or more like “elle a tendu la joue”. That definitely doesn’t sound good in English, now you see why Americans aren’t ones for expressions in that area. Back to the story. Et là, le premier reflex, le plus blessant pour un latin habitué à “claquer la bise” à toute nouvelle personne, tu as reculé. “Mais qu’est ce que tu fais, je te fais la bise, fais-moi la bise!” Translation for an American kid: “Hey bestie! Why won’t you give me a Bear Hug!”
All hail culture shock.
So despite being far away from familiarity your habits live on.
“C’est pourquoi? Un bonbon ou un sort! Ah non alors excusez-moi mais nous ne connaissons pas cela ici, voici un texte explicatif. Bonne soirée”
Translate that for an 11-year-old American kid.
“Des chamallows sur de la purée de patate douce il n’y a que vous les américains pour faire ça!
Quoi mais c’est super bon arrêtez…”
Directions
Note: Effectivement pas sûr que vous trouviez cette recette dans les “cookbooks” français, surtout dans la section repas de fête à côté des vols aux vents.
This is called filling the void. Yes with food and recipes. Tender memories mixed in the batter. But they are no longer placed in the same context. In the same place, by the same person you were.
And now.
You now fear the day you will grasp once again what has been removed from your life for so many years. Having a sense of distance between the places you are attached to gives a sense of comfort
For now, the distance and emotions that come with that void slowly carved are a comfort. A longing. A fuel.
Maintenant, le rapport de distance régit ta vie.
Le plus éloigné tu te trouves du point d’ancrage familial, le mieux tu te portes, the more appealing it seems. As a uprooted child comfort is found in the vastness you get to travel/live/exist in.
The farther you are from the family anchor, the better it feels, le plus attrayant cela te paraît.
Mettre de la distance entre l’endroit où tu as attendu des années quelque chose, une bouée de sauvetage, après que tu sois parti de ton ancrage initial est une façon de réitérer cet acte. De l’infliger par procuration à ceux qui te l’ont imposé. Pas que tu le regrettes ou que tu n’en as rien retiré. But since closure hasn’t been given to you, the coping mechanism is what precedes.
Remedy homesickness by being homesick.
Mais puisque la recherche de distance est tout le temps recherché pour se sentir ne serait-ce qu’un peu plus proche de ces endroits manqués, cela montre le manque d’attachement, le déchirement en vous.
Jamais il y aura une maison.
You will never know what really being home is.
Home is not a place, home is in your mind where you decide it is.
It’s the small memories you’ve created with the few people you keep in the different places that are home. It’s not one specific place. Ce n’est pas un endroit. It’s not.
But you just can’t help the feeling of searching. Of denial that the first place was the best.
Et tu l’entretiens.
L’entretien en sélectionnant ce qui t’arrange de chaque endroit et t’en fait un personnage.
Car où que tu ailles tu seras perçu comme venant d’ailleurs. Donc autant savoir toi d’où tu viens ou en faire un assemblage.
“Tu sais c’est drôle tu entretiens un cliché pour certaines choses avec ton gratin de chamallows, avec tes cuillères “patriotiques” drapeau américain, et en parlant tout le temps des souvenirs, des trucs que tu as connus. Mais essentiellement, ce sont des choses liées à l’enfance. C’est des doux souvenirs liés à l’enfance. Et donc t’entretient ce personnage, ce mythe. Et tu le revendiques. Et après quand tu parles de certains sujets tu vas dire: “nous les Américains” en parlant de traditions ou de choses que tu aimes et puis après quand ça traite de sujets comme la politique tu vas t’exclure du lot en employant “ils” et te réinsérer quand on parle de solution ou de vote. C’est assez amusant.”Perks of having 2 passports you guess.
2 passports that seem so convenient. Some people think it’s the best thing one could have. Some no. Both are correct. But is there one place where it’s better? Ultimately it’s up to you and your little feelings. Not what some people say about it being “un pays qui n’est vraiment plus ce qu’il était, moi si j’étais toi je m’en éloignerais le plus possible parce que j’étais comme toi je l’ai aimé ce pays”
So
Out of Spite
And need of identity
You renew it.
X I am a U.S citizen living outside the country, and my intent to return is uncertain.
And you vote
Juste pour se sentir ne serait-ce qu’un instant retourner, appartenir.
Now we can’t resume this whole in just three pages but we can try and translate a part of it.
Translate this syndrome.
Syndrome of pieced people.
Pieced by different countries
Different cultures
That lay lost between them.
Lost in the change every time.
Lost in translation.
Flicking seasons has become a habit
A close friend
A familiar feeling
I know when to switch and flick now
When I first feel the wind hugging my legs
When shorts shrink to my calves then my thighs
When instead of dragging my rain boots, I speed up in my sneakers
I know when to switch and flick the big light off and then the mighty sun lingers on
I switch and flick year on, day on
In class from hour to hour, we flick our different switches
En classe d’heure en heure on feuillette entre nos différents changements
De copain en friend, from teacher to the other professeur
As I said it’s familiar
But comes the wind and kick in my shoes
The big switch flicks
I know when to switch it
It’s when I jump
I’m in the air
Flick
Feuillette
Change
Échange
And land
The switches I use year on flick solely in my head
If I flick them now, in this land, dans cette terre
Nobody will see them switch, nobody will hear them switch
Allo la terre!
I only flick one switch in this land
And put on hold flicking all the other ones
A month-long they will rest
While I pester in this other land
Familiar but far from the rest of my year-long habits
The opening habit after switching
Is running and tumbling and falling at the foot of the swing
In my grandparents’ yard
Le jardin de grand-père et grand-mère
La balançoire de grand-père et grand-mère
Là où je me balance d’année en année
Juste après avoir balancé d’un côté du grand bleu à l’autre
Je me balance sur la balançoire
I swing on the swing
Comme je swing l’année durant de cours en class
Comme je swing de langue en language
Comme je swing d’avant en arrière
Comme je me balance back and forth
Like I swing d’avant en arrière
I am pushed
Je suis tirée
Je suis tiraillée
I am torn
I am pulled
Je suis poussée
Hold it
Tiens-le
Tiens les deux côtés de la balançoire
I’m holding it
Holding it in
As I learned early on
That’s what we do when we swing daily, monthly, yearly
When I swing in this land
I put on hold the swinging across the big blue
Je suspends le balancement de l’autre côté du grand bleu
Ce sont deux balancement différents
Les rythmes ne sont pas les mêmes
Les balançements ne sont pas les mêmes
Ils ne sont que changeants
They are only switches
Every year a month-long switch occurs when the wind kicks in and the sweat shines in
For a month I put on hold swings on the other side
It’s always one or the other
And they are never really together
Swinging in harmony
Swinging in rhythm
Swinging in symbiosis
Se balançant en symbiose
This one year
I knew I was gonna switch things up
I would swing the other way round
I would swing in my grandparents’ backyard longer than the previous times
Before that, I clicked while slowing down my swing back home
I clicked this place
I clicked that street
I snapped that road there
I snapped my ties to those swings
Thinking I could tie the knots back together next year come
Had I known those snapped streets
Would be the last threads of evidence on those printed sheets
Proving that I used to swing back and forth between those streets
As shorts came trending back year after year
I kept on believing I would pack them
And bring them swinging back to the other side
Even when I outgrew the ones that once knew those swings
I kept on hoping to introduce the new ones to my old turf
But the decade is fast approaching
I hardly exchange my shorts for new ones
I just get hand me downs from my parents
The ones they used to wear while watching me swing back and forth
When I was knee-high
Standing now as tall as my mom
Cup of coffee dangling from my hand
New found comfort in this new year
Mimicking habits of the people in those streets
As I take a break from going back and forth
My swings aren’t as powerful now
They only reach the end of this land
Le bout de cette terre
They don’t touch the sea anymore
But it’s enough to hit “home”
Not the one with my switches
But the one where my mom, my dad, my brother swing in
The one I swung in during my teen years
The ones where I swung with them
Celles où on a balancé ensemble
Celles où j’ai balancé seule dans ce qui me manquait et ce qui me retenait
The ones where I swung alone between what I missed and what held me back
I now go back to those teen years
When I go back swinging to my parents’ home
When I go back swinging to them
When I wear shorts now
It’s to swing with them
La journée qui file, elle file,
Les gens filent, leurs paroles filent
Elles filent dans ma tête in your head
In your head they stay
Parce qu’elles filent sans oublier de semer une part d’elle in your head
Elles filent comme l’esprit file
Comme à cet instant, in your bed, elles filent
Elles filent d’une personne à une autre, d’une parole dite à l’autre
La pensée manque de trébucher tant de personnes aujourd’hui ont défilé, in front of your eyes, in your mind
Ils ont fait filé in your head les pensées jusqu’à atteindre l’autre côté de l’océan
In front of you they reside on the other side of the ocean
Elles y sont allées, elles y sont restées, elles y sont
Ce n’est pas la première fois depuis neuf ans qu’elles y filent you keep going back and forth forgetting your body each time
Le plafond s’en souvient à chaque fois, lui ne change pas
L’esprit, les pensées eux changent, they go back and forth back and forth back and forth
Les personnes ne se rendent pas compte qu’ils font filer les personnes
Tout le monde fait filer les pensées
Tout le monde in their heads ont les pensées qui filent
Tout les soirs elles filent
Tout les soirs plus ou moins longtemps
They can stay a short while or a long while or a long while
They are staying a while tonight
Pourquoi plus longtemps ce soir? You don’t know, they told you so, they’re showing you what you can’t see but feel, you feel in your eyes the watering waterworks, you feel the water that separates you from the other side.
Ce soir filent-elles plus longtemps? Plus vite? Plus lourdement? Do you feel heavier?
Do you feel heavier night after night?
A force de vous filer les pensées, les personnes oublient qu’elles pèsent lourd, you’re heavier and heavier, les personnes sont de plus en plus légères à force de filer et de laisser, they let you feel.
Peut-être que pour ces personnes ces pensées qui filent les font rêver, les font flotter, you weigh down, elles changent de poids de personne en personne, elles oublient donc de filer à leurs compères their feelings.
In my head il file du béton street, avenue il file des bâtiments flat iron il file des monuments Rockefeller il file des musées MET il file des statues of liberty , de la liberté
Liberté
Liberty
Liberté que les personnes ressentent, qu’ils prennent à refiler et à filer là-bas, without you
Liberty you don’t feel it weighs down weighs you down in your bed your body in your bed but you can’t help but feel in your head the liberties your thoughts take they fly leaving you here in your bed
Pourquoi pas prendre le bout de papier que toutes les personnes tendent avant de voler?
Le fameux papier qui fait voler, qui résume les pensées de tout le monde qui file vers ce béton désiré de l’autre côté de l’océan.
Ces personnes veulent ce béton
You want to feel the tarmac grounding you without the weight of feelings
Ces personnes accèdent à ce béton, ramènent un bout de ce béton qu’elles font filer, under your nose, you smell it, it weighs you down at night, and flees the day after
Elles font filer la question de pourquoi ne pas aller chercher son propre bout de béton car yours is old, it doesn’t smell anymore, you only feel it weigh you down now, it gets heavier and heavier, day after day, fleeing gets harder and harder
You will have to fly there again one day, otherwise, you will just stay on the spot
Once at the spot maybe feelings won’t fly as high
Fly as high as others made them fly
Filer aussi haut qu’ils les ont fait filé
Remember they don’t weigh the same for everyone
As-t-on donc peur de filer là où les autres filent, où les pensées filent
De peur de filer haut puis redescendre en chute libre
From fear to fly high and freefall
D’attentes trop hautes? De déception?
Ça file un mauvais coton
On préfère rester sur le coton des draps qui amortissent la chute, as you freefall
The fall from so far, so high, sky high
The fall from the high
The high of feeling at home again as you smell the cement under your fee
Ces pensées qui filent avec les personnes, vous emmènent avec elles
Au départ ça enthousiasme, ça exalte, on touche du bout des doigts de nouveau le ciment de nos vies, the cement of your life, you talk about it, share it, et l’on se rend compte le soir venu que l’on échange le ciment pour le coton de ses draps, ses draps qui se dérobent sous nos pieds, they sweep you off your feet, make you feel the day, the longing, the missing, et vous voyez le plafond
Le coton file avec le béton, le ciment, et les feelings
We would always be practicing if you didn’t come and support live music
So thank you
Son micro compagnon
Posé
Collé
Au Synthé
Posé au dessus
Du clavier
Il pose
Prend
Repose
Le micro
A chaque intervention
Il switch
De la musique
A la parole
En soulevant le micro
Et en se retournant
He turns round
And speaks to us
Bonsoir
He repeatedly introduces his band
Bass
Drums
And hardly mentions
His name
Christian sands
The only moment we’ll hear
A lyric
Is bruce lee
In the synth
Saying
Be water
My friend
For two hours we’ll all be peers
It’s hard to find water
In the sands
But at sea or in the pier
The task is easier
He swooshes his grey suit round
He’s really all
Suits and smiles
And heads turn round
To set back into the music
It’s funny
His synth intervenes
In the first piece
Only
It talks too
It says to be water
And then drops
Sound drops
Echoing with his neighbor
The bass
Bass stepping on water
Too bad it’s not the sea bass swimming
But you could almost think
With how smooth
They all swim together
On that stage
They really do come from under
His feet move
His feet are moving and dancing
Not just to swoosh around and
Talk to us
But his feet move and dance
Like the bass sounds like it’s
Stepping on water
He’s probably trying to
Be like water
My friends
My peers
And
Our feet echo
With their doing
And the synth
It drops
It’s a synth of water drops
I kinda hear echoing
Like echoes in
Pompei
The whale echoing
In the ruins
And
Drums reverberating from
Pink Floyd intruding
They intruded my mind during that part of the piece
And then I just came back
They caught me back in their sea
Through
Looks and smiles between
Them
And us
And eased me back
Into
Their flow
They’re looking and smiling
At each other
They gently
Encourage and
Follow the
Lead
Of one another
From one to the other
They jump from one to the other
It’s exactly like
Sebastian
Explained to
Mia
In
La
La
Land
One player is doing his thing
And he’s trying to communicate with others
Jazz
Is about compromise and communication
It’s hardly relaxing
Like when Sidney Bechet shot somebody because of a wrong note comment
But
Here
They’re just smiling and communicating
It’s very communicative
It’s almost contagious
It’s catchy
It catches you
And you’re caught up in their
Fishnet
In knots
En noeud
Comme l’état de son cou quand il se retourne
Après un
Woosh
Et introduit
Son
Band
Et nous
Nos noeuds dans le cou
A force de
Suivre au rythme de leur cours
Do
De leur marée
A coups de hochements de tête
As we sway from side to side
A coups de sway de la tête
Du buste
De claquement de nos doigts
De tapotements sur nos genoux
Pour imiter ses doigts qui tapotent
Les touches
Blanches
Noires
On s’insère dans leur conversation
En observateurs qui envoient
Des signaux
Qui ne pertubent pas les signaux qu’ils font
Passer de l’un à l’autre
Notre seul signal
Indicateur
Notre clap
Our applaudissements
We clap and they go on
One lady at some point was alone
I find it kinda frustrating to interrupt them in their moments of
Communicating
Or solo sharing to
The band
The audience
A solo offering to the room
To the sea of people
And sometimes you hear a cry from one
A cry of appreciation
A cry of help
A cry of recognition
A cry of warning
A cry here and there
Comme ils sautent de l’un à l’autre à
Coups de main
Coups d’oeil
Coup de sourire
Des flashs
On zappe de son
De l’un à l’autre
On les suit quand ils se lancent la balle
Et on peut se laisser porter par un qui se fait entourer des autres
Et l’on saute à un autre quand on veut
Sometimes you don’t know why
You focus on
One
Or multiple
Sometimes they make space for one or the other
But
Sometimes
You just isolate one
In your ears
Speaking of ears
At one point
I caught
Myself
Looking and listening to the drums
Because of the pearl
On his ear
It was shining
Like no tomorrow
In the middle of the dim sea
I see it
And I see and hear only it and
The arms extended from
It
When it’s his time to take space in this
And
I’m not just the only one listening to him only
He
Uses his drums
As bongos
Odd
His palms are his tools
And his palms are the only thing we hear
We see
And it even surprises me
When from
Out of nowhere
I see
And hear
Sticks used to pursue
His limelight
Soon passed on
A cry from there
And it passes on
One has his knees and shoulders in it too
It’s not just a cry
It’s his whole
That
Is excited
As we are
To
Compliment
Pursue that current
And delve into the next
Thought bubbles I, (can we talk?)
And then turns into
Thought bubbles II, (do not disturb)
Thought bubbles, don’t disturb them
Otherwise whiplash’ll come your way
The currents are agitated
Or maybe it’ll be
Charlie Parker’s fault
Time to decide
Or
The surprise
Of hearing this story
From the mic
After a swoosh
Of suits and smiles
Brubeck
You know Brubeck
Or probably this
Or that
* you need to imagine him playing bits
And pieces
From
Time out
No not the thing you say in a game
The album
Imagine it
In a
Thought
Go on
I won’t disturb you *
I played with Brubeck
When I was a kid with my brother
On the drums there
Brubeck once taught me a song
* proceeds to play a song from Time out
Makes it thrice as long as the one on the album
For our greatest pleasure *
Before playing and talking about Brubeck and
His childhood
He’d spotted a kid in the front row
Fist bumped him
Gotta admit
That’s a cool kid going to see jazz
He said he was about his age when he learned that song from Brubeck
In his home
Turns out
Brubeck was
Kinda my childhood too without me knowing
He’s familiar to me now
But I kinda was like the people in the room who didn’t know his name as a kid sitting on the carpet
I just knew what Christian played on his piano with his magic fingers
I would’ve rung bells to the keynotes
When I was as high as the piano keys
Brubeck
was with me
For the last three weeks too
Weird
I just stumbled upon
Time out
And decided to play it
To work
To fall asleep
With him
Turns out
I heard him tonight
Thrice as long as the original
But still heard him
In a big dark room
Contrary to my cozy
Autumn afternoons
With leaves sticking to my shoes
And raincoat
When coming back from running around the park
To the jazz-filled
living room
When I look back
I wonder
Why did I even ever ask myself why jazz was associated with NY and autumn in my brain
I never knew it was Brubeck specifically playing in the living room back in NY
He blended in with other jazz players like Bill Evans, Coltrane and Davis and all that jazz
In that 40m2 appt
He just played in the living room
Speaking of childhood
Living rooms
Yes but let’s move to the
Kitchen
Do you smell it
Well they tried to make us smell it too
They ended on a
High
_ J’ai chaud
j’ai mal
J’en ai mal à la poitrine
Les doigts qui se tapotent au rythme de la tête de Christian
Sands
Sable
Sur ses dunes
Qu’il monte
Qu’il descend
Au rythme des touches
Et de son genou qui monte qui descend
Son buste qui balance
D’avant
En arrière
Qui s’approche
Du clavier
Qui s’éloigne
Du clavier
He sees-
He -saws
The keys _
MMC
Mom’s Mac and cheese
Family business
Mom’s cooking
I guess after rehearsing with greats as Brubeck
You gotta get fuel
With your drum playing brother
Mac and cheese it is
Suits and smiles
The mic is lifted one last time
If you like the concert and want an autograph come after the show at the signing
If you dont like it
Buy it for someone you hate and give it to him
Gotta like a piano player who cracks jokes at a supposed serious concert In suits and smiles
It’s called entertainment
Encore:
What’s the vibe?
Funky?
Groovy?
Both? Everything?
We’ll do it all
And
I guess that deserves a clap
Cuz I just got whiplash
Two hours on
From
Excitement
Nostalgia
And all that jazz
And I just got a whiff of the ladie’s perfume in front of me and she smells like my high school English teacher I saw the day before
And just like Christian it made me :
Je m’éloigne
Je me rapproche
Du piano
Oh and they did play Olivia
_ recollection of notes scribbled in the dark, I did my best _