La Belle Hélène
EN / FR
I’m sitting on the edge of my seat, drinking in every scene, every musical note.
That is how I felt photographing La Belle Hélène at the Conservatoire du 11 ème arrondissement in Paris last June. I smiled through almost the entire performance, charmed by a production that brought together professional and non-professional singers and actors.
The production was staged by Clara Zammit, who also stepped into the role of Hélène that evening. She has extraordinary presence and a wonderful voice.
Around her, Pâris, Calchas, Ménélas, Agamemnon, the two Ajaxes, and the rest of the cast brought tremendous energy and character to the performance.
There were two photographers that evening, so we split the coverage between us. I concentrated on the closer images—the portraits, naturally my favorites.
The challenge is not missing a moment.
Everything happens so quickly: a gesture, a smile, the slightest change in expression. La Belle Hélène is an opéra-bouffe by Jacques Offenbach. The performers move, sing, react, seduce, argue, conspire. There are no second takes. The light changes, the performers move, and focus, exposure, and timing all have to adjust in real time.
And there I am, sitting in the middle of the third row, trying to catch as much of it as I possibly can.
It is hot. We are in June, and this year the heat waves have been relentless. My camera seems to be begging for mercy from time to time. So does my wrist, because I can barely put the camera down for a second.
But I follow them.
Everything is charming: the voices, the set, the lighting. The simplicity works beautifully.
I see cheerful crowds and intimate moments, a hilarious contest of wit, seduction, Pâris disguised as a shepherd, kings and servants, absurdity and tenderness. Somehow, it all works.
And this is one of the things I love about Paris—the city, not the character. Thoughtful, creative, beautiful productions made by people at different levels of experience who work hard, take risks, and make themselves vulnerable in front of an audience.
For a photographer, it is impossible not to be drawn in.