C’est Paris aussi
Lech Kowalski has gotten us used to movements for a long time now. Movements of the street, of punks, of fetishists, of his mother, of Polish farmers, of strikers: the list is long, it is the almost endless inventory of a demoted humanity. But is it a habit? Definitely not, more like the effect of a camera that remains untamed. And here we are, subjected to its kicks, its tricks, its rebellions, its rages, its heartfelt cries,...