Tasting life twice: Jacqueline de Gorter

Attentiveness and wonder are choices. “Only boring people get bored”, is something my boyfriend’s mother told me recently, and this is exactly the ethos Jacqueline de Gorter seems to live by. Always able to find beauty in the mundane, the Paris-based filmmaker and artist romanticises stillness and waiting, relives it endlessly, and finally, after digesting it with eight stomachs (read: mediums), unfurls a shimmering, low-contrast video still that makes you stop in your tracks. Her artistry comes not from loud spectacle, but from her sensitivity and downright refusal to be dulled by the ordinary. The end product is lush but often lonely – she makes it a point to evoke yearning, even when she’s filming an empty room. A curtain blowing in the wind becomes an intimate scene, tense even. The image is quiet but the feelings are overwhelming.
That she merges poetry, film, and photography makes sense: all are highly suitable and perfectly chosen to reminisce on fleeting moments in every way possible, and that’s exactly what she does. Everything her lens finds – a stranger’s shoes, a wrinkled bottle of hand cream, a spider on 444-thread-count linen – is treated with the same loving attention. Her work is quite solemn, the kind of solemnity that, in lesser hands, might veer into melodrama or, worse, pretension. Jacqueline is neither.
She is curious and bubbly – yes, she likes her solitude, but not in a snooty way. She grew up in the countryside, she wears homemade perfume oils (rose scented ones), and if you’re looking for her, she’s likely either knee-deep in a youtube rabbithole, or face-first in a pot of soba noodles. Read along to catch a glimpse into the mind of someone who notices what others don’t: a conversation with Jacqueline de Gorter. 

First of all, how are you and what’s been on your mind lately?
I’m good. I just finished a film I shot in Japan and now I’m working on a book, so I guess I’ve just been completely consumed with that.

What’s your film about?
It’s an experimental film where I explore Japan from an anonymous viewpoint. I couldn’t do much during that trip, because I got really, really sick when I was there. And I had second degree burns. It was just not at all what I was expecting for my first time there. 

Huh, but what happened? Sun poisoning?
No, I actually fell into a boiling pot of water.

What?
It was so crazy. I arrived in Tokyo on NYE, and it was around midnight in Paris time. I think I got sick on the plane. The next thing you know, I was in bed for three days. I was staying in an old soba restaurant, they had rooms upstairs… it was kind of like a ryokan but not quite. I had to cross their industrial kitchen often. One day there was something on the floor and I fell into a boiling pot of water, all while I had already been in bed for three days without being able to leave.

Damn.
I had been idealising Tokyo and my first time there, and it was just this slap in the face. As I couldn’t do much, it became a very different kind of travelling. I was just kind of walking around. But it actually allowed me to really see so much because I wasn’t trying to do things. I was just walking in neighbourhoods that I probably wouldn’t have otherwise spent time. So the film is really just someone floating through Japan. 

Crazy. It must have impacted your trip tremendously.
It was a shame, but I don’t know if I would have actually made that film if I was just meeting people and doing things. And there were some strange things that came together, too… This year is the year of the serpent and the element is fire, and it was also around the time when all the fires were happening in California, and I had this burn from fire that made my skin look like serpent skin, my face was like scales or something. So it was very strange, but in some way beautiful, like…

All the dots were connected?
Yeah. So in the end, I’m not happy it happened, but I’m not not happy it happened, I guess.

Do you think it had meaning, all the serpent and fire things?
That night I went to see a performance at Tanko Presents gallery, one of only two social interactions I had in Tokyo. I covered my burns with make up as they weren’t completely formed yet. I went to an izakaya with some people afterwards and I met a witch. She told me that it was quite an obvious message: that I had emotions that urgently needed to be released creatively; water, emotions, and fiery water, intensity. 

Are you a superstitious person?
On a daily basis, I go between believing in nothing to seeing my angel numbers on a receipt or seeing someone after thinking of them and being convinced that there is a cosmic divine.

I love it when the universe’s magic is made visible. But what drew me into your work is your inclination toward the mundane, so I wanted to shape a few questions around mundanity actually. Does that align with how you describe your work?
Yes. I used to be really focused on girlhood, especially in my early 20s, because I feel like it was what I knew. I think It’s kind of evolved more into a ‘general’ mundaneness: moments of waiting or not doing anything. I feel like it’s become so rare to just see people watching or looking or waiting. It’s almost like that’s like becoming extinct. Everyone is always on their phone. I’m not anti technology at all. But I find it so beautiful when you just see people. And now it’s oftentimes just older people who are sitting and watching and looking or thinking.

What fills your own day to day life?
I love to go on long walks, sometimes even at night on a Tuesday or something. I walk for hours to just be in my thoughts, or listen to music. 

Are there any rituals or habits that feel grounding to you?
The ritual I do the most is writing. I’ve kept journals for almost 10 years now. I have maybe 20. Anaïs Nin has a great quote. She says: “We write to taste life twice, in the moment and in retrospect.” And I really feel that. I love to write because it’s to understand myself, of course, and understand other people, the world. But I also think it’s like a way for me to experience things again and kind of craft them in my own way.

It’s funny you say that because film and photography are also a way to ‘relive’. You’re basically reliving your life constantly. Do you romanticise… everything?
Yeah, it’s actually something I’m working on – to not overly romanticise things or idealise things. 

Was it becoming a problem for you?
No, I’m just trying to be more in reality. I mean, I love desire, I love languor. I love these emotions. And that’s also something that you can see in my work a lot. It’s this feeling of something that’s not there, but it’s present in a room. I think with idealisation and romanticisation comes this kind of living outside of ourselves, but I think at some point it’s really good to be grounded and in our body. We should actually experience what’s happening right now. 

Ignoring that for the sake of my next question. If you were able to travel back in time, would there be a moment you’d relive?
Not in my own lifetime, because every year I feel that I am my happiest and most fulfilled self than ever before, so I would never go back. Same with artistic growth and what I have learned about the world. But I would love to relive in the 1920s or 30s… if I could come back to our time.

The only way, truly, is up. Speaking about reminiscing about the past – what’s your background?
I started going to film school in New York, but I actually never got my degree. But I think just being in New York is like a degree in itself. 

When did you know that it was time to pursue this full time?
I think I knew from a young age. There’s a video of me from when I’m maybe eight or something. And I’m talking to the camera like, “I’m Jacqueline de Gorter and I’m the filmmaker!” 

Aw. Do you have any favourite film(maker)s that influence your visual language?
I love to watch movies. I have a pass in Paris where I can go unlimited and sometimes I watch like two or three movies a day because we have so many great cinemas. I think I would say visually, I love Abbas Kiarostami. And of course, Bergman. I think visually, the language I love is quite classic, Antonioni and these kinds of directors. As for contemporary directors, one of my favourites is Apichatpong Weerasethakul. I think subconsciously, I take a lot of inspiration from his films. 

They all have a distinct mundane-but-magical air to them!
A lot of my inspiration comes from books that are about theatre and scenography. I went to Prague and I found so many amazing Czech scenographers. But I try to not have too many of my references come from cinema itself, or from fashion, I like to look for inspirations in other fields. I think everything that we look at, we end up referencing, there’s always output from what we see. So I also try to be careful about what I watch because I also think it can go the other way too. 

Media will influence you whether you like it or not. My next question is more about your older work. You used to work on a lot of lesbian love stories. It’s very clear to me that you look, see and feel with a female gaze. Do you feel like your work is informed by femininity?
It definitely informs my work, because it’s my experience. I think the thing about womanhood that impacts my work the most is this sense of searching for a place. Because I think as women, before, we didn’t have a place. Now we’re starting to have a place and there’s this kind of negotiation of who we can be. And before, I mean, this was pre-Trump, I was very angry. I really felt like I had experienced so much misogyny in my life, especially because the town I grew up in was a very conservative one. I had so many bad experiences. So I started a feminist club with my friend and we had trolls and bullies on Twitter while I was 17 years old. So I was very angry. And then Trump was elected and again, I was very angry. 

Rightfully so.
Maybe it’s been since I moved to Paris or maybe it’s just with age, but I feel like I’m less angry and I just want to learn more about us, learn more about women. I want to figure myself out and I want to figure out the women around me. And I have so many amazing friends who are women and they’re so inspiring and they’re so strong. I’m just so in shock of the women around me. They’re so talented, just like brilliant, brilliant women. So I think, yeah, I kind of changed that like anger to really wanting to uncover things. I think I found a place. And now like, who am I in that place? It’s more introspective now.

That’s beautiful. I relate a lot to the anger, and also to letting go of it – at some point I also realised it wasn’t helping me in my day-to-day life. Circling back on that, what’s your favourite mundane moment of the day?
My favourite moment of the day is between 1 and 3 a.m. Something about that time is great, but I don’t think it’s mundane because it’s actually when we’re extremely creative. I love the morning and I love late at night. I think the most mundane part of the day is like 11 o’clock. If the early morning hours would be considered mundane because everything is closed, then for sure that’s my favourite time of the day.

Have you captured anything recently that felt mundane but magical?
I think everything I film is in some way mundane. I think if something is very flashy or maybe too beautiful, I’m actually not interested or attracted to it. I was kind of obsessed lately – there was this Ferris wheel that was in Paris a few months ago. It’s there twice a year and I don’t know, this wheel was just so beautiful and I was going so often, I think I might have visited it like seven times. I never even went in it. I just would go and film it because, I don’t know, there’s something. And Parisians just accept that it’s there – but I think it’s so crazy that there’s this giant wheel and people are inside of it and there’s lights and music underneath but no one even really looks at it. 

It’s funny you say that. I went into a Ferris wheel for the first time a few weeks ago too, one in Amsterdam. The carriages were white with metal and glass and just looked like a really modernist 60s-70s design somehow. I was so infatuated by these little sparkly lights and all this crazy music. I completely understand you being in awe.
I also noticed that attention to detail! I filmed it when they were setting it up as well, and they had all the little cabins on this long track and it kind of reminded me of Cinderella, when the pumpkin becomes the carriage. It was so whimsical. Maybe I should finally go inside it next time it’s in Paris. 

Maybe experience the Ferris wheel like a normal person would.
Yeah.

What’s your morning routine like?
It really changes. Normally I wake up and I make a caffeinated beverage. And I either write or I go on a walk. When I write I light incense. And when I walk I would go to Père Lachaise, because I live pretty close. It’s really beautiful because you really see the seasons changing, even like micro seasonal changes. It’s a really nice way to be welcomed to the day, to go there and just observe. 

What kind of incense would you burn? And what kind of beverage would you make?
I mean, maybe it’s going to sound so corny. I used to always drink so much coffee. But since I went to Japan, and there was just always tea everywhere, I started to drink tea. And I kind of just went crazy with it. I visited Uji, a village in Japan to visit all of these tea makers and sellers. I visited a lot of temples and bought incense there too. So yeah, that’s definitely a big part of my morning.

And it doesn’t bring you back to having second-degree burn wounds?
Actually, no, I didn’t burn any incense when I was there because I was staying in ryokans. It was really like I got to experience Japan in a new way when I came back, which was honestly so lovely. I was almost enjoying it more than when I was there because of all these beautiful products.

Really taking “reliving moments” to the point that it’s just reconstructing a whole new reality, huh. I had the same when I came home from Japan though. Unpacking that suitcase is just a feeling you can’t replicate.
Oh my god. It’s amazing. You’re like, okay, I’m staying inside for the next month.

Exactly! Is there any other place you dream of travelling to, somewhere that’s creatively calling to you?
Yeah, so many. I think Indonesia would be the first one because my grandparents are Indonesian. And it’s been such a part of my kind of culture in a way, but I’ve never visited. So I feel like I have this kind of imposter syndrome.

I hear that a lot. Do you spend a lot of time on the internet or, and if so, where?
Um, yes, definitely. I go into so many rabbit holes on YouTube. For learning things, like literally anything, I think it’s so great. Anytime I’m a little bit curious about something, I’ll look them up immediately on YouTube. I think I have over 1000 videos organised and saved on YouTube, also for archives, it’s really nice. The internet archive is a resource I use a lot for the same thing. There’s some crazy things on there.

Do you have any objects that feel like extensions of your inner world? I always wonder what’s on people’s bedside tables.
For sure. On my bedside table I have an 18th century… object. It’s part of an opium apparatus. My partner got it for me at the auction, it’s super beautiful. And then, of course, what I’m reading right now: a book from H.D. (Hilda Doolittle). It’s called Portrait d’Aujourd’hui. I don’t know if you’re familiar with her, she was a lesbian writer, and the book is autobiographical. She was in love with this woman and they had a lifelong love affair. I also have a signed book from Anaïs Nin who is one of my favourite writers, also next to my bed. The thing is, I have so many objects that have absolutely no use. Little trinkets. They’re in constant rotation. My house, there’s just so many things everywhere. There is no wall space. What else…

You keep a diary right?
Yeah. That’s like an indispensable part of my life for sure. And I also love to read diaries, autobiographies as well. But diaries or books of letters that people send to each other are my favourites.

What’s your handwriting like?
I write in cursive because it’s faster. Some people say it’s very beautiful, some people are like, wow, as it can be very unreadable. It’s very ornamental in terms of the cursive that it is. Sometimes I have the problem where I can’t read what I wrote. I’ll look back on the diary and I’m like… What am I speaking about? 

Do you have a first fashion memory?
Well, my parents called me Madonna because they had these fingerless workout gloves and I would always want to wear them. I was like, who is that? I actually always loved those little fingerless gloves. I remember I had them in pink and black. It was when Avril Lavigne was at her peak.

Ah, the original emo era, what a time to be alive.
It was so emo. Like that whole era… there were skulls on everything, but kind of cute ones. I bought those fingerless gloves when I was with my friend’s mom or something. And I really wanted to wear that on the first day of school. My mom was like, absolutely not. You’re not leaving the house like that. 

Classic mom-ick. Do you have any fashion icks or pet peeves yourself?
I think when it’s fashion week in Paris and people are in all head to toe brands. I like when you can really tell something about the person by what they wear. And maybe that’s becoming less because there’s these globalised trends happening. But yeah, I love when I see someone and I’m like wow – I really feel your vibe and understand who you are because of what you’re wearing. 

Agree. Fully branded outfits can feel so polished and empty.
Yeah. Like the statement is “fashion”. 

It makes me think of people buying expensive keychain trinkets as ‘memorabilia’.
No shade to my friends who work in fashion and actually love their craft, but people in fashion so often identify themselves with their job. They are so much more multi-dimensional! Maybe it’s just fashion week in Paris. So many people with so many egos who feel like it’s their week to be walking down the street with this dead look. 

Like okay, main character…
Yeah like, I guess I’ll be the anonymous person on the bus?

Lol. What’s your favourite emoji?
It’s between the blue butterfly and the white heart. There was actually something I watched on YouTube recently that was super interesting, about the evolution of language. It starts at the very beginning, which is hieroglyphics, and how basically it was like emojis… I was like wow. We’re going back to the beginning now I guess. 

We’re finally coming full circle.
Yeah and what’s next? Like no language I guess? 

Do you have a least favourite emoji? One you would get rid of first?
No, I think I’m kind of open to all the emojis equally.

That’s kind. Is there anything else you wanted to share?
Free Palestine! I can’t think of anything else. On a side note, I wanted to ask because right before you called I got a notification that the Dutch government just collapsed or something.

Yeah um.. Wilders just walked out of the coalition, so kind of weird times here.