I’ve often been asked if Chantal’s work was political. I think that’s obvious. Her films are political, not because they deal with political subjects, but because they set us in motion. They put us directly in relation with the world and ourselves. Chantal didn’t want to copy reality or represent it. She didn’t want to explain anything because explanations prevent questions. In her films, the present and visible resonate with the hidden and invisible. And these resonances, these shifts, open space for thought./
I don’t like explaining to a director what I’m trying to do because those words affect their perception. I prefer to avoid any preconceived idea, any reasoning that could arise in the director’s mind before discovering the combination of images. That’s why I don’t want the director to look at the timeline, the way so many do today. The important thing is what takes place on screen at the very moment when images and sounds appear. That’s where the film is./
I often hear editors say that they’re going to test or approve a version of the edit. You test a light bulb or a battery; you approve an invoice. A film is something you watch, listen to, experience, and question. Maybe I’m putting too much emphasis on their choice of words, but our diction says a lot about us and the time we live in./
Excerpts form an essay by Claire Atherton. A film editor who worked witj Chantal Akerman for thirty years.
You can read the essay in BOMB magazine.