untitled

The Observer | 01. 1 0. 17 | THE NEW REVIEW 7

is known, people will see it before you. It’s like
a glass screen you can see through but in fact
there’s always a refl ection of their imagination,
their fantasme.”
Many of those scrutinising her were journalists
and she became acutely aware of their unequal
relationship. All these anonymous people, she
realised, were the engine of her fame and yet she
had little awareness of who they were – it was
simply not part of the equation. So she started to
photograph them: “I wanted to keep a memory,
because for all those moments I was spending with
them I knew that for me, I wouldn’t keep anything...
I had the feeling that my time was evaporating
without any memories, any human little gift.”
The pictures of the journalists are both
unremarkable – snaps of a group of people with
little resonance to the viewer – and telling: the
occasional fl ash of wariness, the apparently
open-faced smile that might indicate a genuine
amusement at the tables being turned or simply a
willingness to play along, to indulge the superstar
and keep her sweet.
In her self-portraits, she is far more dramatic
and playful; recreating Some Like It Hot in order
to pose next to Tony Curtis’s fake oil tycoon ;
as a bare-chested police suspect, snapped for
mugshots with arms folded over her breasts
and a downturned mouth; as the photographer,
camera in hand, her face obscured by a mudpack

or a woolly hat. In one , Tautou perches, naked, at

the edge of pool, a foot poised to dip in; she tells

me that some people have read it as though she

were a mermaid, ready to return to the water.

But she links it far more closely with the myth of

Narcissus, in which a beautiful youth becomes

dangerously enraptured by their refl ection.

The lure is the lure of celebrity – she

demonstrates by singing “ Come, come and be

famous” – and touching the water is the point

of no return, the dive into “les ténèbres” – the

darkness. “Fame is more powerful than talent,”

she explains, and people are prepared to be drawn

to the famous no matter what they’re doing.

“I think for everybody celebrity, fame, is a dream.

People see it as a blessing.”

By dressing herself up, she says, she enters

a kind of “no woman’s land”, where she is

neither herself nor a made-up fi gure that

might readily be associated with her. It’s a

sort of “fake instantaneous moment”.

“It’s not realistic mise-en-scène. My

subject, in these photos, to me it’s not

a real proper character. It’s somebody

between the character and who I

am. It’s somebody just right in the

middle of the travel between the

regular humans, the normal humans,

and the one who’s going to become

a character.”

All this is a long way from the photographs

that she loved to take as a child , and from the

actor who, post-Amélie, starred opposite Tom

Hanks in The Da Vinci Code , as the famed

fashion designer in Coco Before Chanel and

in the highly acclaimed fi lms Priceless and A

Very Long Engagement. It is also far removed

from her work as a model, for clients including

Chanel and L’Oréal. And yet Tautou has been

steadily building up her portfolio over the last

two decades, working privately and not even

employing a professional photographic laboratory

until recently.

“Now I’m trying to make everything

exist,” she says. When she fi nally decided

to show her work , “it was because

there was no other option. I wanted to

show them, no matter where, it could

have been on a fi eld in the middle of

nowhere. I wanted them to be out.”

Partly, this is a matter of perfectionism:

“I try to express some humour in my

photos, but when I’m working and

when I’m presenting a job, I know that

I would never give up on anything.

I would never say, ‘T hat’s all right,

it’s going to be OK.’ It’s impossible

for me to think that way and that’s

a problem. I think if I was less

exigent with myself, maybe I would

be more productive, because I would put less

pressure on my shoulders.”

She loves the poetry and the evanescence of

photographers such as Nan Goldin , Diane Arbus

and the great chronicler of Parisian life, Brassaï.

Is it because, perhaps related to her work as an

actor, she is interested in those who suggest the

story beyond the frame? She agrees: “I like when

an image could be just one of several others

which would create a story. That you can imagine

who are those people or what would happen

before, what’s going to be next ; I like when

there’s a past and a future that we can imagine

when we see photos.”

For the time being, Tautou is focus ing on other

photographic projects, although she insists that

they are not ready for her to talk about , partly

because, she says, she is so slow. She knows she

will never stop taking photographs and gives the

distinct impression that she will not be able to

keep them to herself. “I had worked so much,” she

says of her current exhibition. “I had this project

in my head for many years and it had to exist.

Because if it still existed only in my brain, only in

my little four-wall house, it was suff ocating. So I

was not scared any more.”

Audrey Tautou: Superfacial will be on display

at Jimei x Arles international photo festival in

Xiamen in China from 25 November to 3 January

‘I like it when

there’s a past and

a future that we

can imagine in the

photos’: images

from Superfacial.

All photographs by

Audrey Tautou

o be drawn

oing.

s a dream.

enters

is

at

’s a

until recently.

“Now I’m

exist,” s

to sho

there

show

haveb

nowhe

Partly

“I tryt

photo

when

I wo

I wo

it’s

for

a p

ex