The easy silence.
As words hit my chest, criticism, attacks, and harassment crash against the walls of the bubble I have ferociously built for myself since I was 16.
At a time when I am being lent a word that is not mine, I must write for the first time.
Can the artist register in the city other than through his art? I believed him for a while.
28 years old that I am. Women. French. Arab. Loved. Watched. Critiqued. Desired. Pampered. Assaulted. Sexualized. Descendant of Algerian immigrants who fought under this beautiful and large tricolor flag, then for the independence of their country of soil, blood, language and heart, and not of colony. Musician. Actress. Alive.
I have already expressed myself in the public sphere for 11 years thanks to the privilege of notoriety.
Two weeks after the attacks of November 13, 2015, it is the heavy soul, accompanied by my sisters of life Yaël Naïm and Nolwenn Le Roy, that I sing in the courtyard of the Invalides in unison with a bruised people.
A month later, I am Marianne, dove in hand, offering my mouth and my right breast to the front page of L’Obs. Yet blamed.
In May 2020, while I share my fears about the growing unease between institutions and part of the population, then at the end of January when my new album is released, when I talk about my anti-racism and my feminism, my words are transformed and diverted from their meaning. So my alleged hatred of man, whether white or not, is pure invention.
So it is also for Catherine Deneuve, Jane Birkin and Daniel Auteuil, immense artists whom I admire to the highest point since childhood. Here they are, and he too, become subjects of comments that I have not made and of false polemics.
True art. A simple but burning question. A dense and complex response so that it is as clear and measured as possible on these subjects which concern me directly and make my life day after day, awake as at night in my most contemporary dreams … For an unspeakable result: a tortured thought, emptied of its substance.
My commitment is questioned at each of the interviews I give. Commitment: “The act of being bound by a promise or a convention”. The nobility of this word moves me. It widens me, sits me down, calms me down and aligns me. I feel deeply linked to the stars, to men, to women, to nature, to the emotions and to the invisible waves created by music.
If, to a promise, I feel bound, it is to the one I make to myself. That of the good and the just that marks my skin. The one thanks to which the permanent heckling from outside cannot enter my unshakeable circle. The one I pray to and in which I have untouchable confidence. The one that keeps me centered when I speak, millions of eyes on my lips.
I deeply believe in benevolence. And yet. However, the only sadness that comes to me then, is not due to the violence that is granted to me. Not even the impact of harassment suffered by some media partners. She is also not in the disappointment that I see in the eyes of my teams after so much work, marred by the hatred expressed on social networks. No. The sadness that arises in me is that of the French citizen that I am and who sees her country divided, anger at the forehead and rage in the stomach.
I grew up before your eyes. Today I am a woman and I am content to say the things inside me. The ones I wear and which animate me, inspire me and make me grow: nature, racism, love, feminism … I believe that the artists that I hold in the highest esteem are the artists which speak about subjects which themselves animate them, and inspire them. This is how they touch me. Because they say my ailments, my joys, my fears and reassure me in this way. Thanks to them and them, I am not alone in my doubts and my torments.
I want my music to accompany you. I speak of MY one and only truth, moving, mobile, agitated, if not quiet. Because I am not a politician, but a French citizen clinging with all force to the values instilled in me by the Republican school, having the chance to write you these words and they will reach you.
I speak in these qualities. Nothing more. Nothing less.
Yes I speak. I speak because I live like you in these shocking, disturbing and sometimes reassuring times. There are many blind spots there. The gray areas too and the volume of the absurd noise continues to increase. I believe it is time to stop it. Only the words spoken are valid from now on, not those that are attributed to me. I said what I had to say now to make way for the music. Otherwise in silence.
See also on The HuffPost: At the demonstration for Adama Traoré, Virginie Despentes and Vikash Dhorasoo also thought of Camélia Jordana
Source: HuffPost Greece – Athena – Google Newsstand – ΟΙΚΟΝΟΜΙΑ by www.huffingtonpost.fr.
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