Simon: Estelle, I think that's a good way to describe your work, that the words are visual.
Estelle: Yes, it's the inverse of Camille's. Even in her ‘Do's and Don’ts' series, she uses pages from etiquette books, and in general, we're both passionate about literature, philosophy, and politics, so we have a lot of words in common. I'm a very visual person as well, and I love to write about art, whether or not I like it. It's inconsequential to me whether I like an artist's work; I want to talk about the glittery ideological deviations that are born of it. Camille's work is sensational; in that sense, it's inspiring to work with her material. In another context, I might be commissioned to write about a specific image or [art] show, and I’ll write down words or phrases that spring to mind when looking at it. On my notes app, there’s a litany of unhinged notes.
Simon: Shall we talk about this project - an operatic “Commedia dell'arte” for New York's Performa Biennial?
Camille: To be transparent, I don't like performance in general, I don't remember being enthusiastic about an art performance, ever. I feel like it's pretending to be neutral, but it's the most staged thing; it's supposed to be more ‘natural’ than theatre, but it's more artificial because it's pretending to be natural. I started trying to roll back to the last time I attended a live performance that I liked. Of course, that would be a music performance, but excluding that, I thought it would be a Commedia dell'arte puppet show. It's a long way back in childhood. There's something about the Commedia dell'arte characters that I found intriguing because none of them are conveyed positively. I began looking online to research Commedia dell'arte, and I found it fascinating: established characters, such as doctors or landlords, are often portrayed in the worst light. The ones that are made fun of the most.
Nowadays, some of this art has been lost, but it brings relief and a much-needed atmosphere of community. It's a sense of camaraderie, but also just the idea of having a laugh. I love burlesque; the reason to laugh is more based on the grotesque, and it's often a simple mechanism. Somebody falling, missing a step, getting enraged for no reason. One of the inspirations for the script is the British television series 'Absolutely Fabulous,' which remains one of the funniest and most creative comedy shows. I feel like I don't see that [kind of] humor enough, so I wanted to do something I'd like to see myself do, even if I'm not good at it.
Estelle is very funny. In her writing, she has this sort of underdog vendetta spirit, which is a bit Commedia dell’arte. So, we started to think about a Commedia dell'arte set in New York because a lot of American people don't know the traditional characters of Harlequin, Pulcinello, Pulcinella, and Pierrot.
I've always been interested in how popular culture is being reinvented and reinterpreted. I did a film about Frankenstein called Psychopompe, and my first film Deep Inside was about porn and horror. I wanted to revisit my early interests and examine how popular culture continually reinvents itself. The further away and more grotesque it is, the closer it is to social realities; in a way, it allows us to talk about things we wouldn't be able to address directly. Our new collaboration is a comedy about paying the rent, something nobody wants to hear about because it's a painful topic. We have this funny anecdote: We tried to call the play, ‘Rent is Due’, and at some point, we were contacted with, ‘Wait, I don't think we can keep this title because every time we email someone with the subject-line, ‘Rent is Due’, they delete the message.’ [both laugh]
I want the play to be based on characters. When I draw, I'm not so interested in the core furniture and landscape; I'm primarily interested in bodies, costumes, and the way people move. I love movement, I love rhythm, I love music. So it needs to be a weird musical.
Simon: It sounds amazing! I don't think people talk about Ab Fab enough.
Camille: I totally agree. The young generation, you talk about it, and they don't know it. I was planning to dress as Patsy [Stone, played by Joanna Lumley] for Halloween, and I thought it would be so easy and funny, but nobody in my neighbourhood knew who Patsy was.
Simon: Ok, from Patsy to… What do you think art really means? What is art?
Estelle: It's a decision.
Camille: I was trying to think what I would say to this. In short, I would say it has something to do with free will. I also think it’s the opposite of what you do. Its possibilities. Art, specifically in its language, in its technique, has a right, even some kind of duty, to ambivalence and complexities.
Simon: How would you define beauty?
Estelle: Can I give the same answer as before: it's a decision? [laughs].
It's a verb, not a noun. Everyone has this conception of beauty as a noun or adjective, but it's a verb; you decide what is beautiful, and you determine where and how you extract it. Even in bleak, traumatic experiences, you can distill beauty and adjudicate what is precious.
So, concisely: Beauty is a verb?
Camille: I would say something a bit weird: it's truth. It would be nice to ask everyone to show you an image of something beautiful: children, adults, and old people. I think in all those images, there would be truth. Every mise-en-scène has some truth in it. I think of beauty as what is not ugly. I think that's easier. I feel like lies, distortion of reality, and manipulation are the ugliest things. For me, I have physical disgust for people who are manipulative or lie, I can almost smell it, it gives me nausea. It's a very strong physical reaction.