Freely inspired by the works and letters of Paul Claudel,
the letters of Camille Claudel, and the medical records of Camille Claudel.
Originally from Villeneuve in the Aisne, Camille Claudel is a sculptress,
born in 1864, the sister of the writer Paul Claudel, who is 4 years her junior.
Student then mistress of Auguste Rodin for 15 years, until 1895 when she left.
In 1913, after the death of her father, and after 10 years spent reclusively in
a workshop in Quai Bourbon in Paris, her family admitted her, for mental problems,
to the hospital at Ville Evrard near Paris, then to the south of France,
to an asylum in the Vaucluse.
1915, Montdevergues Asylum, near Avignon.
Miss Claudel, please.
Come on, we'll run a bath.
You are too dirty.
Come and have your bath. It will do you good.
No fuss today, Miss Claudel.
Here.
You are always dirty. You need to wash.
Come.
Every time it's the same.
Here.
See this completely dirty hand, Miss Claudel.
And it soothes you.
Miss, what are you doing here?
You are not with the others?
Return with the others. Miss Claudel!
Doctor, please.
Miss Claudel has the authorisation to prepare meals.
Because of the fear of being poisoned.
Oh dear. It's wet.
My ears...
I can lunch in the courtyard? Yes.
Miss Claudel...
... could you care for Miss Lucas?
Come.
Thank you.
What are you doing?
You're watching me cry?
What's going on? Thank you, Miss Claudel.
OK, Miss Claudel?
Come on, I'll walk you to your room.
Miss Claudel...
Miss, what happened in the kitchen this morning?
I was told...
... you threatened to slap the intern.
He doesn't know the risk he runs.
He tried to take me.
I've the right to make my meals, like you said.
Yes.
You have the authorisation, but it is exceptional.
This is for your good.
I know.
Anyway, some good news for you:
Saturday.
Your brother, Paul Claudel...
... will come to visit you.
Thank you.
My God... My God...
I want nothing else than to be in a house nearby.
My little Paul...
Make it end...
I find my dear labour.
Hallelujah.
God's Glory and all His saints.
He prayed for His saints...
Five apostles arrived in Bethlehem...
... to save Jesus.
There was Rome, the Romans, the time of the Romans...
Hallelujah.
Hallelujah...
Madame Danielle, you will get into trouble.
You shouldn't stay here.
What are you doing there?
You have nothing to do in the school.
Hallelujah.
That's it. You're all there?
The meal is ready; you can enter.
Place ​​yourselves there, please.
Come on, now.
Fine. Bravo.
Here.
Come with me, please.
Come, Miss.
About the meals for next week - three residents less.
Very well, my sister.
Miss, do not be afraid.
Nobody here wants to poison you.
Miss?
What's your name? Blanc.
You...
You'll post a letter for me in the village, in secret?
You have an address where I can send the letter from?
My mother's: the Widow Blanc...
... Tour Philippe-le-Bel, Moriere-les-Avignon.
Thank you.
My dear Henriette,
This is very far away as I write.
No longer my cute little studio in Paris.
Since I was abducted from my place...
... I often tried to communicate with you.
But I'm watched night and day, like a criminal.
I do not know if this letter will reach you.
I was interned at Ville Evrard...
... then, under the pretext of war, at Montdevergues, near Avignon.
I've suffered to be torn from my studio...
... to be locked in these horrible houses.
My cousin Charles tried to get me out...
... but since then I haven't any more news.
Dear Henriette...
... if you could give me news of you...
... and your children, you'd make me happy.
Do not talk of my letter, I have some trouble.
If you want to answer me, use this address:
Widow Blanc...
... Tour Philippe-le-Bel, Moriere-les-Avignon.
This person was good enough to help me.
Send ​​a large envelope to this address...
... with another inside, smaller, and in my name.
Accept my very sincere wishes to you and your dear children.
Paul tells me that he comes on Saturday.
I'm not desperate to get out of here one day.
So, Miss? How are you today?
There is a delivery for me?
No. Today, we have nothing for you.
Well, my sister. I entrust you.
Miss.
So, Miss?
How are you?
How are things going?
I'm here without knowing why.
How long will it last, this joke?
Longer still?
I'd like to know.
I am incarcerated as a criminal.
Worse.
No lawyer...
... nor my family want to help me out of this hell.
I am deprived of freedom...
... fire...
... food and basic amenities.
It's made me into what you want.
Even my parents abandoned me.
They respond to my complaints by...
... complete silence.
This is awful, to be abandoned in this manner.
I cannot resist the grief that overwhelms me.
Mum and my sister...
... have kidnapped me in a most comprehensive fashion.
No letter, no visit.
They stake a lot that I'll never get out of here.
They take my legacy.
So you blame me?
Having lived all alone?
Having spent my life with cats?
They have a mania of persecution.
These fine gentlemen pounced on me...
... to seize all my works...
... and let me spend as long as possible in prison.
They are eager to turn this poor woman...
... who'd be for them a living accusation...
... an annoying phantom of their crime.
If there is no danger, they do not let me out.
It's Rodin who has this in his claws.
It's Rodin who used them to seize my workshop.
He holds them in his claws...
... they cannot move without his permission.
For a long time, it was fixed...
... in such a way that I could not...
... dare leave the house.
As soon as I was absent, gentlemen came home...
... searched in my books and took my sketches.
It's Rodin, preparing to do the same job.
He found in them accomplices and an excuse.
Please do what you can to free me.
I have no intention of claiming.
I'm not strong enough for that.
I live in my corner, as I have always done.
The life I lead here does not suit me.
This is too hard for me.
Sorry to tell you so frankly.
Yet...
... your relationship with Rodin...
... stopped 20 years ago.
Fine.
We'll see you next week, Miss.
Miss Pierre, we must return.
Miss Pierre?
Not I.
Miss. No!
Miss Pierre...
Hello, Miss Claudel.
Miss Lucas.
Miss Lucas, do you want Miss Claudel to come with us?
You'll just walk with us, Miss Claudel?
Come on, come with us.
Come walk.
Come with us.
Lift the feet, please.
Raise the feet well.
We'll soon be there, Miss.
Come on, ladies.
You'll get there soon. This is very good.
Sing with me.
Come on, we're going home.
Look where you put your feet.
You know the text by heart.
Now I want your...
... gestures.
A very gallant Don Juan...
... and Miss Charlotte a little wary.
Go.
Hello, Mrs. peasant.
Don Juan, your gesture.
Gallantly.
Charlotte, step back a little.
There. Perfect.
Hello, Mrs. peasant.
Hello, Sir. From where do you come?
From the village.
What's your name? Charlotte.
Don Juan.
I, Don Juan.
Start again.
Hello, Mrs. peasant.
Hello, Sir.
From where do you come? From the village.
What's your name? Charlotte.
I, I... Don Juan.
You have beautiful eyes.
You have beautiful eyes, a beautiful face.
Give me...
... your hand. No, my hands are dirty.
You have beautiful hands. There, that's Scene 1.
Now we will tackle Scene 2.
Hello, Mrs. peasant. No!
Will you marry me?
But no.
I thought that we were starting again.
No, no repeats. We're tackling Scene 2.
Are you married? No.
But soon, with Pierrot.
What? Will you marry a farmer?
Never, I love you too. Will you marry me?
No. Why?
Again. Will you marry me?
Yes.
Not immediately. Not now, Charlotte.
Will you marry me. You have already said that.
She said yes. Then she said no.
And after, I'll know more.
You're a little lost.
Well, we'll go back. Come on, pick up.
You are Don Juan, and you want to seduce.
Not unless my aunt agrees.
No, no, no.
Charlotte, you just say "No."
No.
Why?
Because you have tricked me.
Me, fool you? Never.
I love you, too.
Take that... Me, fool you? Never.
Look!
You do not say it to the air, you look there.
But I do look there. What do I do?
You look down. No.
Watch Charlotte.
Look at me.
I'm looking at you. I'm doing that.
Me, fool you? Never.
Me, fool you? Never. I love you, too.
Will you marry me?
Repeat: "Yes..."
Yes, but... provided...
... provided that you do not deceive me.
Never, I love you too. Will you marry me?
No. "Kiss me." Kiss Me.
Nearer, Don Juan. "Kiss Me."
Kiss... Kiss me.
Charlotte. "Not before marriage."
Not before marriage. Give me your hand.
After, I kiss you as you like.
Give me your hand.
You can do better.
After, I kiss you as you like.
No, No, No!
No, No!
Get lost! I don't want to see you!
Go! I don't want to see you!
Get lost!
Get lost! I don't want to see you!
I don't want to see you!
Miss Lucas? Go!
What is it? Come.
No!
What's happening, Miss Claudel?
I cannot stand.
I'm a human being!
I stand over the cries of all these creatures.
It turns my heart!
Talk to your brother. He will visit you tomorrow.
Oh, my God...
Miss?
You can help us to leave town?
Come, I will escort you.
Thank you, Miss.
Amen.
In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.
I'm ready.
This is me.
My God, I am risen...
... and I am still with you.
I slept.
I slept like the dead in the night.
God said, "Let there be light"...
... and I woke up like a cry.
I popped up and I woke up.
I'm up and I start...
... with the day that begins.
My Father...
... who have led me before dawn.
I stand in Your presence.
God.
Who is one in three people...
... relationship on which Christ on the cross.
Verb that everything is word.
What you say, I think.
You are given the word and nailed nails defer...
... the title that I have my hope.
What you say, I think.
I'm the finger in your wound.
The hand in your heart.
You are the Almighty.
You cannot help that I love You.
Know someone, I am close to...
... committed the same crime as you.
She's atoned for 2 years in a nursing home.
Killing a child in an immortal soul.
It's horrible.
How can you live and breathe...
... with such a crime on the conscience?
Can you be misunderstood?
Anyway, I do not speak with the indignation of a Pharisee...
... but with the compassion of a brother.
Sunset at the Abby of Frigolet...
... near Tarascon.
Soon to visit...
... my poor sister, Camille, at Montdevergues.
In fact, I am convinced...
... that in most cases called 'madness'...
... it's really possession.
It is curious, in any case, that the almost unique forms...
... are pride and terror...
... delusions of grandeur and delusions of persecution.
She was a great artist...
...and his pride and contempt for the upcoming...
... were without limits.
This is further exaggerated...
... with age and misfortune.
I have the temperament of my sister...
...though a little softer and a bit of a dreamer...
... and without the grace of God...
... my story would have been like that, or worse.
Is it possible to exorcise remotely?
God told me no...
to my entrance to the Benedictines.
If I had really been a saint or hero...
... who knows if I would not have spent also the defense of God...
... and if, despite everything...
... I would not be able to be truly a saint.
Excuse me.
At the time I forgot religion.
I respected him with the ignorance of a savage.
The first light of truth...
... I was given by encountering the books of a great poet.
I owe eternal gratitude...
... and put in a prominent place for my training of thinking:
Arthur Rimbaud.
Reading "Illuminations"...
... and after a few months, "A Season in Hell"...
... was, for me, a decisive event.
For the first time...
these books opened a crack in my materialistic prison...
... and made a vivid, almost physical impression; supernatural.
This was an unfortunate child who, on 25 December 1886...
... went to Notre Dame de Paris...
to attend the offices of Christmas.
I started writing...
... and it seemed that in the masses...
... treated with a superior dilettantism...
... I would find a suitable excitement...
... and the matter of some decadent exercises.
After you.
It is under these provisions that, jostled by crowds...
... I attended high mass...
... with not that much pleasure.
Having nothing better to do, I returned to Vespers.
Children of the masters, dressed in white robes...
... and pupils of the seminary of Saint-Nicolas-du-Chardonnet...
...sang what I later learned to be the "Magnificat".
I was myself standing in the crowd...
... near the second pillar...
... by the entrance of the choir, to the right, to the side of the sacristy.
And then it happened - the event...
... that dominates my life.
In an instant, my heart was touched, and I believed.
I thought of such a forced membership...
... and such certainty, leaving no doubt...
... since the books, the reasoning...
... the hazards of a restless life could not shake the faith...
... or indeed touch it.
I had, suddenly, the feeling...
... of the innocence...
... the eternal childhood of God...
an unspeakable revelation.
I am not a Christian to enjoy the religious sentiment...
... or a kind of mystical pleasure.
I always hated that.
This is why I am a Christian:
I'm a Christian by obedience and by interest...
... to know what's expected of me.
But I've never had the idea to enjoy God...
... to draw enjoyment or any pleasure whatsoever.
I would have considered it to be quite vile, is it not?
It seemed to me that God took to solemnly sitting in my heart.
It reminded me of his past favours...
and showed me my vocation, made it known.
Invited me to a knowledge...
... deeper and more intimate of himself.
Mr. Claudel, we expect holiness of you.
The secret of holiness is left to God.
To the chapel. Why?
We will make a prayer.
We will see God.
What is it, the good God?
He is in heaven. This is the one who hears our prayers.
Shh.
Easy.
I'm hurt.
Easy. My foot!
Easy.
Hello, Miss Claudel.
You seem happy today.
He's coming, your brother?
Yes, this afternoon.
Thanks!
Paul. Camille.
My little Paul!
It cries, it bellows...
... it whines, it laughs, it is unbearable!
These are creatures that even parents do not support.
Why am I here?
Take me.
Take me from here. They tried to poison me.
Camille!
What do you think, Camille?
What do we do, Mum, Louise and I?
We do everything for you to get better.
You have the best care when there's a war.
You're wrong.
I'll never cease to be wrong, only cease to be sincere.
Yes...
I learned you had sent...
... a nice amount of money to Mr. director.
You're right, because he's someone who...
... has a great reputation.
Who has benevolence...
... like the sisters elsewhere.
You try to comfort me...
... you're burden's extraordinary...
... you make an effort for me.
You're raising four kids.
You go to the hotels, you have terrible burdens.
I do not know how you do it. I am unable to.
But you know, here, it is very difficult...
... to live.
You know, Paul?
There are rules, ways adapted to live.
This is very difficult, to change these things.
There's too much noise.
You know, I... I would like to return to Villeneuve.
I want to live with Mum.
I do not understand why you will not take me.
Here in first, it is unbearable.
I'd rather be in third class.
You see, I saw my diet. I do not need much money.
It's no use at all.
I'll...
Talk to the director. Ask him to...
... deliver me or...
It's cold here.
There's the wind.
You should tell Mum to come and see me.
I'd like it to be reviewed again.
You'll say?
Paul?
Going quickly is not so tiring.
She could do it.
Your wife does not want me, nor the others...
... but I hoped more again.
You do manipulate, Paul.
This is Berthelot.
You know, your friend Berthelot...
... who took all my works.
It seems that my little workshop, my poor furniture...
... my little household and my tools...
... excite their lust.
This is beautiful...
... these millionaires who throw themselves on a helpless artist.
They are 40 times more millionaires.
Imagination.
The feeling, the new...
... the unforeseen that comes from a developed spirit.
The thing being closed to them...
... heads, mouthfuls...
...nervous, obtuse...
.... the light closed forever...
They need someone to provide for them.
They said:
"We use a hallucination to find our subjects."
They are those who have had fundamental recognition...
... and do not give some compensation...
... to the poor woman they deprived of her genius.
Paul...
This is the exploitation of the woman.
They want to make me sweat blood.
And Rodin.
The diabolical mind of Rodin...
... thinks one thing: steal.
Afraid that I become more than him...
... during life, and without doubt after death.
He wanted them to take me in their claws.
He wanted me to be unhappy. Oh, there, I am.
This might not disturb you, but it does me, Paul.
I miss much of this slavery.
I'd like to be home and close the door.
So you say: "God...
... "God is good. God pities the afflicted."
Let's talk, your God who let me rot in an asylum.
God allows experience, Camille.
He withdrew his hand.
He left us in sin to check the secrets of His wisdom.
His secrets do our due hesitance because...
... we had not enough to convince us.
There is nothing on earth that is like the translation.
Meaning He who is in heaven.
God is everywhere.
In all natural phenomena...
... all of which signifies something of Him.
In all human feelings, Camille.
All human acts.
There is no-one in which he has no interest
Who he doesn't see.
Who has no connection with him.
Both the good and the bad.
Everything is parable, Camille.
All signifies infinite complexity.
The connections of creatures with their creator.
In reality, Paul...
... it would force me to make sculptures.
Seeing we cannot do it, it gives me trouble.
But not decide that...
... instead.
Promise me...
... you'll hold me and you will not abandon me.
I promise you, Camille.
For 20 years...
... every night, every morning, I pray for you.
I'm still sick, poisoned in the blood.
My body burns, Paul.
This Huguenot Rodin makes me dispense the dose...
... because he hoped to inherit my workshop.
I'll leave you.
Yes.
Can it be that when the war ends, I can go with you?
I'll sit in the light. I am peaceful.
Hello. How is it going?
What a terrible sadness.
There is no worse job than art.
The genius pays.
What a tragedy! What a life!
The artistic vocation is a very dangerous one...
... and one which few people can resist.
Art addresses faculties of the mind that are very dangerous...
... imagination and sensitivity...
... which can easily make the equilibrium go haywire...
... and lead a life with little aplomb.
At 30...
... my sister thought that Rodin would not marry.
Everything collapsed around her...
... and reason did not resist.
That was the end of her conscious life.
Yes.
Miss... your sister...
... remains very persecuted.
Always the fear of being poisoned.
With all the genius, life was full of disappointments.
Yes, but...
... Miss Claudel is now calm and docile...
... she misses a lot...
... she wants very strongly...
... to be closer to Paris...
... wanting to live alone in the country.
And I think...
... it might be time...
... to try to satisfy that.
Camille spent the last 29 years of her life in the asylum
and died on 19 October 1943, age 79 years.
Buried in a communal grave, her body will never be found.
Dying on 23 February 1955, Paul visited his sister until the end of her life.
He did not attend her funeral at Montdevergues.
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