Martine Rousset Movies

Originally a text in fragments, more or less biographical, of different characters. Crossed stories, mixed times, memories and inventions. Coming...

Readings. Heinrich von Kleist / Robert Walser. Contiguous. They talk about imagination. Walser imagines Kleist, Kleist nobody, but Penthesilea. In...

"Readings. A place. Purity of lines. Fine angles. Dominance of whites and blues. Fragility of tapered glasses." A visual evocation of the writing of...

An unknown writer written under the pseudonym of Laure at the beginning of the century. Readings. Geography. The places of a writing. The forces that...

Winter, fog, outside. The outline of eyes, sometimes we could ride those trails.

"With Un vent leger dans le feuillage, a fixed close-up which for three minutes decays a few leaves of their green color, Martine Rousset films the...

Filmmaker's visual diary during her visit to Samarcande.

Landscapes. A utilitarian nature. Contemporary. Cruel images. Changing. Seasons. The watch could be eternal. Each image transparent and non-avenue....

On the one hand: A frame - and then windows in the frame - Spiked - from one to the other - Images designated - fenced, inside / out. Every moment...

Wandering through Central Asia, the Caucasus, Kurdistan… to Istanbul. Cities and trains, steppes and snow, down there where the pulse of time...

The unfinished Julien Gracq text, the road 1970, a forest near the sea, the enigma of a trajectory, by this text in this lanscape and this...

"The sea is a language whose meaning we have lost" Jorge Luis Borges

in the meantime , lighthouse , old lighthouse , far away , beyond the ponds , coolpix , little coolpix , long before the perfect clone .

Listen to the trace, over the absent times, from the shore, at the very edge of the page, in the blind corner where the reader is held, give a voice,...

The city is leaving, slowly casting off, on the edge of time... It is leaving lightly... Not so far away, elsewhere, where time passes, has passed,...

Night is falling the landscape is disappearing leave the world and its memory the night, rags in its wake last page.

This is what the city offers the passing foreigner: gold and night to the visitor who has barely arrived. Fragments, the stone found by the...

Rousset photographs a train station in the evening, then boards a late-night train bound for mountainous Anatolia.