I went closer to Camille, to almost touch her face with the lens which it was an extension of me. I study photography and film in the 70s, the camera had become a part of me since, althought there was a time when I could not take a picture, I was tired of it and as a Director I simply let someone else handle the camera. So, from the moment I started working with Margot, I was returning to the camera, to see through the lens, to frame my vision and to see beyond the surface of light

My modest camera didn't have the controls I had in my old Nikon F2... I didn't have depth of field and I wasn't in love with the electronic exposure of this new video technology. It was frustrating, but still, as I got closer to her face I liked what I saw.

I had to admit that the electronic eye of the camera, it's circuits, chips, lenses, etc, all had a different sensitivity to the light and to texture. An art form in itself, one that had to be mastered because as I could already see happening, would be replacing celuloid. It was sad, as it was probably sad when celuloid replaced glass as the base for film emulsion. One art instrument, because that's what the camera is, replaced by another, more modern, with more possibilities.

Thus, Camille's face was now being recorded by the electronic eye of my amateur camera. An artistic creation in its own right and so, I decided not to worry any longer about the method I was using in this rehearsal and to concentrate on the object D'Art, Camille herself.

Her lips were tense, a bit of blood was smudged on the sides of her lips. That smudge had left a mark on her arm when she leaned her head on it. In this rehearsal I was searching for the look of pain and desperation, but at the same time I was looking beyond the scene, to the future, where one of the elements I was going to be searching for was the look of sudden peace after a horrible and painful martyrdom.

I could imagine Caravaggio working his models into expressing that particular look, that particular pose. He had to capture that on a painting. I had a camera that was capturing 30 frames per second, multiple possibilites for ONE picture. But still, I was looking for One expression within those thousands of frames, one that would express everything.

It was time to look into Camille's eyes. I pulled her head back with one hand, while holding the camera with the other. She stayed in character and I loved that in her. She was patient, she wasn't complaining, she wasn't stopping. As I held her head in my hand I looked over the camera at her parting lips, her soft but tense white skin, her fine cheekbones. I was full of tenderness, full of love. Maybe she sensed it because she let out a deep sigh, as if I was embracing her and not torturing her.

When I first saw her I thought that if she was not so young I could fall for her. I wished I was 20 years younger.... but now, as I held her head, I knew I was falling for her and I was falling hard.