It was 2009 and we were headed to the South of France for the Recontres d’Arles. A large Duane Michals retrospective was planned that year, and we were curious to rediscover his work that spanned half a century.
The exhibition was held at the Archevêché. The quality of the photographs selected for the show was clear, but there was a peculiar ambiance in the halls. The public was simply enraptured by Michals’ stories, his series, his words, his thoughts. Viewers of all ages were transfixed by the photographer’s poetic world. And we followed the wave of people, fascinated, amused, touched. Never has an exhibition caused to many laughs and mischievous looks. The visit concluded with Duane Michals himself Moonwalking for the spectators. That night, at the ancient theatre, the house was packed and the day’s infatuation lingered. It wasn’t clear who was having more fun: Duane Michals or his audience. One thing was certain: we would have to make a film about him.
Read the full version of this article by Anne Morien on the French version of La Lettre.
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