​​And what if we took care of ourselves?

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Not I is the first part of a trilogy entitled The Place of the Other (La Place de l’autre), a personal solo of radical minimalism and disseminated poetry. It shows all the steps of a Japanese tea ceremony, moved to the here and now.

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Under our gaze, Camille Mutel trusts us with her vulnerability through rhythmic sequences with variations of light and rare razor-sharp sounds. To win us over, she puts into place her ritual, the conducive space for the gift she offers us. It is an encounter in all possible gentleness. She sets up her workbench with precision and without precipitation: a vise and a plank of wood. She discovers objects, plays with a knife exploring all possibilities. She delicately removes the skin of an onion that she takes out of a basket, adds a tablecloth to the scene, and jabs the fresh fish. She serves a glass of wine.

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The everyday gestures are displaced, broken down: the movements, slowed down. The body melts into the same scene that will soon become a plastic composition, a still life for today. It gives way to what has been the center of interest and attention from the beginning: the object, the other. It is an experience attentive to the gesture of offering and sharing.