Jean-Claude Rousseau

Thirty-five years after "Keep in Touch", Jean-Claude Rousseau’s filmmaking returns to the city of Carl Andre and Hollis Frampton. It’s like a miniature remake of "Rear Window", but a New York version – Rear Window as seen by a minimalist artist from New York. The window takes up almost the entire frame, the photographer is nowhere to be seen and the gaze, no longer voyeuristic, flutters over the surface of a red brick façade on the other side, studded by myriad identical windows. On the surface of the windows or in the depths of the bedrooms, life passes by, takes its leave and returns, always inaccessible.

“You do not need to leave your room. Remain sitting at your table and listen. Do not even listen, simply wait. Do not even wait, be quiet still and solitary. The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked, it has no choice, it will roll in ecstasy at your feet” Franz Kafka

“You do not need to leave your room. Remain sitting at your table and listen. Do not even listen, simply wait. Do not even wait, be quiet still and solitary. The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked, it has no choice, it will roll in ecstasy at your feet” Franz Kafka

“You do not need to leave your room. Remain sitting at your table and listen. Do not even listen, simply wait. Do not even wait, be quiet still and solitary. The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked, it has no choice, it will roll in ecstasy at your feet” Franz Kafka

Between rain and clearer spells, in the footsteps of Ozu in today’s Japan, people met, wordless encounters… Also some seismic events, a trembling of the ground which does not interrupt the course of the film. And just for the sake of a story: a forgotten umbrella in a hotel room.

A hotel room and a few sweets, their wrappers stacked like gold leaf... An interview with Chantal Akerman and ongoing coverage of the 2015 terrorist attacks in Paris, and what emerges is a genuine tragedy, as simple as Racine's.

A hotel room and a few sweets, their wrappers stacked like gold leaf... An interview with Chantal Akerman and ongoing coverage of the 2015 terrorist attacks in Paris, and what emerges is a genuine tragedy, as simple as Racine's.

A hotel room and a few sweets, their wrappers stacked like gold leaf... An interview with Chantal Akerman and ongoing coverage of the 2015 terrorist attacks in Paris, and what emerges is a genuine tragedy, as simple as Racine's.

A hotel room and a few sweets, their wrappers stacked like gold leaf... An interview with Chantal Akerman and ongoing coverage of the 2015 terrorist attacks in Paris, and what emerges is a genuine tragedy, as simple as Racine's.

A hotel room and a few sweets, their wrappers stacked like gold leaf... An interview with Chantal Akerman and ongoing coverage of the 2015 terrorist attacks in Paris, and what emerges is a genuine tragedy, as simple as Racine's.

Short film commissioned by the Cinemathèque Suisse to celebrate Jean-Marie Straub’s 85th birthday. Directed by Jean-Claude Rousseau.

Short film commissioned by the Cinemathèque Suisse to celebrate Jean-Marie Straub’s 85th birthday. Directed by Jean-Claude Rousseau.

Curta-metragem de Jean-Claude Rousseau

A man spends his time sitting by a window that overlooks a pool.

A man spends his time sitting by a window that overlooks a pool.

A journey to Kyoto. In late autumn, as the maple leaves turn red, city dwellers cross paths in the shaded walkways of the Imperial Park.

A journey to Kyoto. From the temple’s highest terrace visitors have a view of the city in the distance, under the changing sky.

At first glance, Jean-Claude Rousseau’s films seem like quickly outlined sketches. They are snapshots of various situations and locations, as in this program of nine miniatures, shot in hotel rooms and parks, at the shore of a lake, and – in the longest contribution – on a restaurant terrace. Rousseau’s observations of everyday life, however, are about precision rather than contemplation. With each minute that passes, they sharpen the view of the observant and expectant outsider for a moment of surprise – be it a jump into the water or a huge crucifix.

Sous un ciel changeant. Jean-Claude Rousseau uses his signature black frames to create Durasian elisions between painterly, Corot-conjuring tableaux.

At first glance, Jean-Claude Rousseau’s films seem like quickly outlined sketches. They are snapshots of various situations and locations, as in this program of nine miniatures, shot in hotel rooms and parks, at the shore of a lake, and – in the longest contribution – on a restaurant terrace. Rousseau’s observations of everyday life, however, are about precision rather than contemplation. With each minute that passes, they sharpen the view of the observant and expectant outsider for a moment of surprise – be it a jump into the water or a huge crucifix.

Jean-Claude Rousseau homage to Michael Snow’s film Wavelength.

Jean-Claude Rousseau homage to Michael Snow’s film Wavelength.

The loneliness of the white fish in the goldfishes’ aquarium.

“My eyes are imprisoned/ Weeping with great longing”. Soèdade (saudade) — “longing” or “yearning” — is a Portuguese word that does not have a precise translation in English. It has been described as a “…vague and constant desire for something that does not and probably cannot exist…”

A day at the beach.

Where may the reds and goldens be? Where may the so promised city be? The lover beholds his fate in a faded Venice.

Veduta means "view". A plan of the city of Florence.

Jean-Claude Rousseau is a filmmaker who believes in the natural power of images. The rigid compositions create something like a pure state, which constantly changes during the period of its viewing – like an empty and simultaneously detail-packed field. During this period the viewer is challenged to find and occupy his own position, to find his perspective in a similar way the filmmaker has found his in several places. Festival combines places the artist has visited during the last few years. Jean-Claude Rousseau’s films not only make beautiful discoveries, they are beautiful discoveries.

The title is playing with us, claiming that the film is a detective story. Witch in a way it is not untrue. The camera is peeping tom and it does not lose a thing (almost) in its surveillance: every movement, people coming and going, sounds, a sudden shot... A crime ? Maybe. Some phone calls and nobody answering: another crime ?

L'Appel de la forêt follows the call of nature, but, as it is always the case with Jean-Claude Rousseau, in the form of an image. At first glance we see a green wall and a door-frame next to it. After a second glance the disturbing aspect of the scene crystallizes: A small, differently colored rectangle draws attention to the fact that a picture has been removed from the left-hand side of the wall, while such a picture can still be seen at the right-hand side of the wall. Then a man (Rousseau himself) enters the scene and puts the painting back into its original spot: It shows a roebuck. What follows is a carousel ride of unusual and amusing images.

L'Appel de la forêt follows the call of nature, but, as it is always the case with Jean-Claude Rousseau, in the form of an image. At first glance we see a green wall and a door-frame next to it. After a second glance the disturbing aspect of the scene crystallizes: A small, differently colored rectangle draws attention to the fact that a picture has been removed from the left-hand side of the wall, while such a picture can still be seen at the right-hand side of the wall. Then a man (Rousseau himself) enters the scene and puts the painting back into its original spot: It shows a roebuck. What follows is a carousel ride of unusual and amusing images.

The continuing demand for high standards is what sets Rouseau's work apart. What makes this film distinctive is the way Rousseau explicitly returns to the source of his creative inspiration. So here he is at home reciting «Bérénice» to himself, whilst going about his household chores. It verges on the comical: There are repeated shots of him obstinately trying to turn off a dripping tap, or the jubilant close up of bare feet carried away in performing a dance step or two. Combining art with life in such a way, that nothing is compartmentalised, nothing lost - that is the goal.

The continuing demand for high standards is what sets Rouseau's work apart. What makes this film distinctive is the way Rousseau explicitly returns to the source of his creative inspiration. So here he is at home reciting «Bérénice» to himself, whilst going about his household chores. It verges on the comical: There are repeated shots of him obstinately trying to turn off a dripping tap, or the jubilant close up of bare feet carried away in performing a dance step or two. Combining art with life in such a way, that nothing is compartmentalised, nothing lost - that is the goal.

The continuing demand for high standards is what sets Rouseau's work apart. What makes this film distinctive is the way Rousseau explicitly returns to the source of his creative inspiration. So here he is at home reciting «Bérénice» to himself, whilst going about his household chores. It verges on the comical: There are repeated shots of him obstinately trying to turn off a dripping tap, or the jubilant close up of bare feet carried away in performing a dance step or two. Combining art with life in such a way, that nothing is compartmentalised, nothing lost - that is the goal.

The continuing demand for high standards is what sets Rouseau's work apart. What makes this film distinctive is the way Rousseau explicitly returns to the source of his creative inspiration. So here he is at home reciting «Bérénice» to himself, whilst going about his household chores. It verges on the comical: There are repeated shots of him obstinately trying to turn off a dripping tap, or the jubilant close up of bare feet carried away in performing a dance step or two. Combining art with life in such a way, that nothing is compartmentalised, nothing lost - that is the goal.

The continuing demand for high standards is what sets Rouseau's work apart. What makes this film distinctive is the way Rousseau explicitly returns to the source of his creative inspiration. So here he is at home reciting «Bérénice» to himself, whilst going about his household chores. It verges on the comical: There are repeated shots of him obstinately trying to turn off a dripping tap, or the jubilant close up of bare feet carried away in performing a dance step or two. Combining art with life in such a way, that nothing is compartmentalised, nothing lost - that is the goal.

In a darkened room a dark figure holding numerous flickering candles walks towards the camera. The single frame, however, keeps the secret of the scene to itself.

Inspired by Rossellini's Europa '51 Straub-Huillet made a film consisting of two pans of a street corner in Paris.

A triptych formed by FAIT LES AMUSEMENTS, CONTRETEMPS, and COMME UNE OMBRE LEGERE. The viewer is challenged to find and occupy his own position, to find his perspective in a similar way the filmmaker has found it on a look-out-point in the mountains.

Can you tell if yours is a colour or black and white dream ? If yours is a silent or sound dream ? If ther’s a voice off or actual sound ?

Three friends lounge around on pillows after having lunched on the terrace. One of them leaves staggering. It is a matter of expectation and temporal perception.

Rooms must be vacated before noon on the day of departure. An extra night will be charged for all late departures." Jean-Claude Rousseau has used this banal, well-known notice as a synopsis for his film. Taken out of context, thereby rendering it mysterious, it is an ideal introduction to this letter, which consists of two shots – the front and behind of a window in a hotel in Turin – and an insert. Here, Rousseau continues to explore "basic film techniques" but in this case, he abandons super eight to film in DV, a new technique and a new quest for harmony between visuals and sounds. Jean-Pierre Rehm.

Rooms must be vacated before noon on the day of departure. An extra night will be charged for all late departures." Jean-Claude Rousseau has used this banal, well-known notice as a synopsis for his film. Taken out of context, thereby rendering it mysterious, it is an ideal introduction to this letter, which consists of two shots – the front and behind of a window in a hotel in Turin – and an insert. Here, Rousseau continues to explore "basic film techniques" but in this case, he abandons super eight to film in DV, a new technique and a new quest for harmony between visuals and sounds. Jean-Pierre Rehm.

Rooms must be vacated before noon on the day of departure. An extra night will be charged for all late departures." Jean-Claude Rousseau has used this banal, well-known notice as a synopsis for his film. Taken out of context, thereby rendering it mysterious, it is an ideal introduction to this letter, which consists of two shots – the front and behind of a window in a hotel in Turin – and an insert. Here, Rousseau continues to explore "basic film techniques" but in this case, he abandons super eight to film in DV, a new technique and a new quest for harmony between visuals and sounds. Jean-Pierre Rehm.

Rooms must be vacated before noon on the day of departure. An extra night will be charged for all late departures." Jean-Claude Rousseau has used this banal, well-known notice as a synopsis for his film. Taken out of context, thereby rendering it mysterious, it is an ideal introduction to this letter, which consists of two shots – the front and behind of a window in a hotel in Turin – and an insert. Here, Rousseau continues to explore "basic film techniques" but in this case, he abandons super eight to film in DV, a new technique and a new quest for harmony between visuals and sounds. Jean-Pierre Rehm.

Rooms must be vacated before noon on the day of departure. An extra night will be charged for all late departures." Jean-Claude Rousseau has used this banal, well-known notice as a synopsis for his film. Taken out of context, thereby rendering it mysterious, it is an ideal introduction to this letter, which consists of two shots – the front and behind of a window in a hotel in Turin – and an insert. Here, Rousseau continues to explore "basic film techniques" but in this case, he abandons super eight to film in DV, a new technique and a new quest for harmony between visuals and sounds. Jean-Pierre Rehm.

Rooms must be vacated before noon on the day of departure. An extra night will be charged for all late departures." Jean-Claude Rousseau has used this banal, well-known notice as a synopsis for his film. Taken out of context, thereby rendering it mysterious, it is an ideal introduction to this letter, which consists of two shots – the front and behind of a window in a hotel in Turin – and an insert. Here, Rousseau continues to explore "basic film techniques" but in this case, he abandons super eight to film in DV, a new technique and a new quest for harmony between visuals and sounds. Jean-Pierre Rehm.

Rooms must be vacated before noon on the day of departure. An extra night will be charged for all late departures." Jean-Claude Rousseau has used this banal, well-known notice as a synopsis for his film. Taken out of context, thereby rendering it mysterious, it is an ideal introduction to this letter, which consists of two shots – the front and behind of a window in a hotel in Turin – and an insert. Here, Rousseau continues to explore "basic film techniques" but in this case, he abandons super eight to film in DV, a new technique and a new quest for harmony between visuals and sounds. Jean-Pierre Rehm.

My films are like that: in a room, but looking out onto an open sky. [...] I can’t really say it except to repeat that Bresson note, ‘that without a thing changing, everything is different.’ The film exists. The fiction is set up, and we believe in it. The justness of the agreement leads us to believe it, because everything plays equally at being a sign. That’s the arrangement of the elements. It’s an act of faith. La vallée close is just this: elements treated above all as if in a documentary that, without being changed, portray the story and reveal between them the elements of fiction. But above all seen as they are, insignificant. And then in the relations they set up, they can satisfy our desire for a story. -- Rousseau

My films are like that: in a room, but looking out onto an open sky. [...] I can’t really say it except to repeat that Bresson note, ‘that without a thing changing, everything is different.’ The film exists. The fiction is set up, and we believe in it. The justness of the agreement leads us to believe it, because everything plays equally at being a sign. That’s the arrangement of the elements. It’s an act of faith. La vallée close is just this: elements treated above all as if in a documentary that, without being changed, portray the story and reveal between them the elements of fiction. But above all seen as they are, insignificant. And then in the relations they set up, they can satisfy our desire for a story. -- Rousseau

My films are like that: in a room, but looking out onto an open sky. [...] I can’t really say it except to repeat that Bresson note, ‘that without a thing changing, everything is different.’ The film exists. The fiction is set up, and we believe in it. The justness of the agreement leads us to believe it, because everything plays equally at being a sign. That’s the arrangement of the elements. It’s an act of faith. La vallée close is just this: elements treated above all as if in a documentary that, without being changed, portray the story and reveal between them the elements of fiction. But above all seen as they are, insignificant. And then in the relations they set up, they can satisfy our desire for a story. -- Rousseau

Rousseau's first full-length feature, and one of the best documentaries/experimental films of the past few decades, sprung equally from Robert Bresson, Michael Snow, and Jean-Marie Straub (who has called Rousseau one of the three best working artists in modern Europe). Again hard places played against drifting sounds from unseen sites beyond the image; the images and sounds, repeated, become inflections of each other. But this time there are historical inflections; Rousseau's film, like Straub's, takes place in a sort of meta-history as characters and ancient sites each become products of outside light and shadow.

Rousseau is shown sitting in a room, waiting. Voices leave messages on his answering machine (sound); a table lamp (light) and an empty writing pad (memory) adopt the meaning due to them under this arrangement. In between, the flowing movements of nocturnal ice dancers are accompanied by Rousseau’s humming a tune.

"if he leaned out the window, if he did that movement, if he risked to fall or to drop the camera, if he leaned to fall, then he would see and it would be seen, through the doorway, inhabited islands, churches and palaces where the boats dock. "

Jean-Claude Rousseau's Jeune femme à sa fenêtre lisant une lettre is not only his first medium-length film, but a chance to discover this filmmaker whom Jean-Marie Straub has called, along with Frans Van de Staak and Peter Nestler, the greatest working in Europe. With this newly restored print there is also a possibility to discover the relationship between Rousseau's art of filming and Jan Vermeer's famous painting. As Prosper Hillairet wrote in 1988, four years after Rousseau had finished Jeune femme ... (for the first time as we know today): «Without adopting the usual systematic spirit and form of cinéma structurel, Rousseau presents us with simple images and leaves it at that. Keeps the image in hand. A minimalist and ascetic expression of cinema: a shot that lasts.»

Jean-Claude Rousseau's Jeune femme à sa fenêtre lisant une lettre is not only his first medium-length film, but a chance to discover this filmmaker whom Jean-Marie Straub has called, along with Frans Van de Staak and Peter Nestler, the greatest working in Europe. With this newly restored print there is also a possibility to discover the relationship between Rousseau's art of filming and Jan Vermeer's famous painting. As Prosper Hillairet wrote in 1988, four years after Rousseau had finished Jeune femme ... (for the first time as we know today): «Without adopting the usual systematic spirit and form of cinéma structurel, Rousseau presents us with simple images and leaves it at that. Keeps the image in hand. A minimalist and ascetic expression of cinema: a shot that lasts.»

Jean-Claude Rousseau's Jeune femme à sa fenêtre lisant une lettre is not only his first medium-length film, but a chance to discover this filmmaker whom Jean-Marie Straub has called, along with Frans Van de Staak and Peter Nestler, the greatest working in Europe. With this newly restored print there is also a possibility to discover the relationship between Rousseau's art of filming and Jan Vermeer's famous painting. As Prosper Hillairet wrote in 1988, four years after Rousseau had finished Jeune femme ... (for the first time as we know today): «Without adopting the usual systematic spirit and form of cinéma structurel, Rousseau presents us with simple images and leaves it at that. Keeps the image in hand. A minimalist and ascetic expression of cinema: a shot that lasts.»

Jean-Claude Rousseau's Jeune femme à sa fenêtre lisant une lettre is not only his first medium-length film, but a chance to discover this filmmaker whom Jean-Marie Straub has called, along with Frans Van de Staak and Peter Nestler, the greatest working in Europe. With this newly restored print there is also a possibility to discover the relationship between Rousseau's art of filming and Jan Vermeer's famous painting. As Prosper Hillairet wrote in 1988, four years after Rousseau had finished Jeune femme ... (for the first time as we know today): «Without adopting the usual systematic spirit and form of cinéma structurel, Rousseau presents us with simple images and leaves it at that. Keeps the image in hand. A minimalist and ascetic expression of cinema: a shot that lasts.»

Jean-Claude Rousseau's Jeune femme à sa fenêtre lisant une lettre is not only his first medium-length film, but a chance to discover this filmmaker whom Jean-Marie Straub has called, along with Frans Van de Staak and Peter Nestler, the greatest working in Europe. With this newly restored print there is also a possibility to discover the relationship between Rousseau's art of filming and Jan Vermeer's famous painting. As Prosper Hillairet wrote in 1988, four years after Rousseau had finished Jeune femme ... (for the first time as we know today): «Without adopting the usual systematic spirit and form of cinéma structurel, Rousseau presents us with simple images and leaves it at that. Keeps the image in hand. A minimalist and ascetic expression of cinema: a shot that lasts.»

Jean-Claude Rousseau's Jeune femme à sa fenêtre lisant une lettre is not only his first medium-length film, but a chance to discover this filmmaker whom Jean-Marie Straub has called, along with Frans Van de Staak and Peter Nestler, the greatest working in Europe. With this newly restored print there is also a possibility to discover the relationship between Rousseau's art of filming and Jan Vermeer's famous painting. As Prosper Hillairet wrote in 1988, four years after Rousseau had finished Jeune femme ... (for the first time as we know today): «Without adopting the usual systematic spirit and form of cinéma structurel, Rousseau presents us with simple images and leaves it at that. Keeps the image in hand. A minimalist and ascetic expression of cinema: a shot that lasts.»

"He came to read. He opened two or three books; historians and poets. But he barely read for ten minutes before giving it up." C. Cavafy