BECAUSE I WAS A PAINTER

PARCE QUE J'ETAIS PEINTRE

By Christophe COGNET

THE PARTY FILM SALES - as SALES All rights, World

Documentary - Completed 2013

The film conducts an unprecedented investigation of secretely created artworks in nazi camps. While transiting among these clandestine images and the vestiges of the camps, it offers a sensitive quest amid faces, bodies and landscapes to explore the notion of Artwork and the idea of Beauty.

Festivals
& Awards

RDV Unifrance 2014
    • Year of production
    • 2013
    • Genres
    • Documentary
    • Countries
    • FRANCE
    • Languages
    • FRENCH, ENGLISH
    • Duration
    • 104 mn
    • Director(s)
    • Christophe COGNET
    • Writer(s)
    • Christophe COGNET
    • Producer(s)
    • Stéphane JOURDAIN (La Huit Productions)
    • Synopsis
    • I hardly dare say it, but for a painter, the beauty of it was incredible. It was absolutely necessary to reproduce, represent and show it, in order to preserve it for the future.
      Zoran Music, survivor from Dachau
      This film conducts an unprecedented investigation of secretly created artworks in Nazi
      concentration and death camps.
      It converses with the rare handful of living artists who survived the camps and with those who curate their art: about the emotions the works conjure, their marginalization, their signatures or anonymity, their style, as well as the representation of horror and
      extermination.
      But perhaps above all, it takes a long look at the drawings, wash drawings and paintings
      held in collections in France, Germany, Israel, Poland, Czech Republic, Belgium and Switzerland.
      While transiting among these fragments of clandestine images and the vestiges of the
      camps, the film offers a sensitive quest amid faces, bodies and landscapes to explore the
      notion of artwork and confront the idea of beauty head-on.
      The stakes are disturbing, but perhaps we can thus better imagine what the camps were
      truly like, and experience the honor of an artist, no matter how small or fragile the gesture of drawing is.