TRANSLATION

[Cordovan]

laliquette:

Firstly, Thank you for your blog and thanks as well to RJ for the translation. It seems like a whole new experience now to read your blog .

Cordovan

[Costi]

Dear Pierre,

I have just read your blog post dedicated to the memory of your father in which you also recall your debut as an artisan. I wanted to let you know I found it very touching, it is very evocative of an age that I only know from recordings (written and filmed) and stories, but also very personal. It also evoked memories of my childhood, because both my parents worked in the film industry for almost half a century and that febrile atmosphere in which everyone worked and lived as though nothing else existed on Earth besides the project at hand was just the same. I think this kind of passion and dedication has become very rare today, not to say it is completely gone.
My shirtmaker, who is about 10 years older than you, also worked for the “show biz” for many years and still does from time to time: movies, theatre, television, dance shows. She still has a constant supply of very young dance sport customers – it take a special person to work with these children, and I don’t mean just the technical challenges of making a perfectly fitting fancy shirt for a 12-year old
Working with costume designers is not an easy job, and I know the story from both perspectives – that of the designer as well as that of the artisan. Not all designers are able to create feasible drawings and provide clear instructions that an artisan may follow – sometimes the designer has little if any tailoring experience and may not understand what works and what doesn’t. On the other hand, not any artisan is able to implement a designer’s concept and interpret an idea, a sketch into a beautiful and functional garment.
As an anecdote, I remember that in 1987 TF1, Rai Uno and a German studio whose name escapes me co-produced a feature film on the life of Francois Villon, most of which was shot in Romania, with a Romanian director. There was a scene in the movie that took place in a hospital of the poor in medieval Paris. The costume designer, a most distinguished lady with lots of experience and knowledge, but who was well into her eighties at the time and slipped a detail or two every now and then, had designed some sort of head bandages for some of the patients occupying the beds which vaguely resembled a dirty turban. Upon inspecting the scene that was ready for shooting, the director (who was known for his short temper) had a fit of fury and, since the costume designer was not present, called for my mother, who was the head of the production department. “Look at this scene, look what they have on their heads, I must be on the wrong set, what film are we shooting here?” he yelled on the brink of a heart attack. A moment of complete silence followed. My mother quickly evaluated the seriousness of the situation and the possibilities to mend it on the spot and decided not to give the matter too much importance and defuse the bomb, so she promptly replied: “Why, this must be Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves!”
Once again, thank you for this wonderful post and... maybe you'll be in the mood to bring back some more of these memories one of these days.

PS: Special thanks to RJ who made such a good translation.