The film ICH GEHE JETZT (I’M LEAVING) comes from a time before and during confinement in the pandemic ‒ during the attempts to contain the virus in Paris. Before and after the birth of a child. A time of regular contact with a crew at the North Pole and with a cameraman aboard the expedition ship. At the typewriter, words are tossed onto the page and a fictional dystopia comes to life. Observations from the streets of Paris.
I take on the role of a flaneur.

I was searching for images to match the written words. A woman roams the city, the labyrinth, a place recorded and remembered. Large bodies of water and mud threaten a habitable place. The flood of media coverage sinks its teeth in, like a lovebite.

The news sounds like a stopwatch counting down the amount of time left on Earth. The water of life swells and recedes, overflows and no longer seeps back into the ground. It appears in tears, fog, and mist, but also breath, sweat, and air.

Morning walks become a sunrise ritual. A marked shift on the path. Just as a sculpture must be viewed from all sides, the walker learns the street by walking it. The body adjusts and squeezes through the density of matter.

Film is rhythm and movement. Droning and booming city noises take up headspace. Every step sets the pace, and the sound of iron on iron
is its metal heartbeat.

An apartment under water. The rooms are flooded with sunlight. A hard ray of black shadow pierces the blinds. There is no furniture. Vacancy. A picture hung here, a bed stood there in which we know a woman once laid. A human contour casts a shadow on the wall. Premonitions.

Ultimately, we are all equal in the end. Or one person sinks while the other has already made it to the moon.

Art film, 60 min., black-and-white, 2021/22 (FR, Germany)
cinematography by Jakob Stark, produced by Fire on Air