La Blogothèque

David Moore / Bing and Ruth

I met David one August night, poolside in the south of France. A mutual friend had been travelling through the Balkans and took a detour on his way back to Paris, joining us in Banyuls. As the night rolled on, we started to take an interest in David. He was a musician, he told us; he came from New York, had a banjo splattered with blood in his hand and had just finished his first album, called ‘Bing & Ruth‘. We pressured him to play us a song, he cheerfully complied.

Whereas we had all expected cheerful, danceable music, an intense silence seized our small party. We each got lost in our own thoughts, re-emerging only around ten minutes later. That night we travelled with a new companion, agreeing that it was a good start.

I passed long months listening to this album, one of my most beautiful and unique discoveries last year. The album has yet to be released, and I think David is thinking of self-releasing it. Send him an email if you’d like a copy –

David has become a close friend, and when I was in New York last February I proposed this little portrait to thank him. The moment was right, the winter was fine and dry, and snow had just blanketed Brooklyn. We decided the best frame for this atmospheric, dreamy music was in the deserted immensity of Coney Island, one frigid morning. The experience was difficult, as the -10°C weather meant that the musicians had to play with gloves on, it was impossible to take many long shots while moving through the snow, cracking beneath our feet, but we left saying that at least we did it, that the wind was beautiful as it swept around, that it was a strange way of communing with nature in New York.

David had gone through a difficult breakup a few months back, which he was trying to bounce back from. A few days after we filmed this, he sent me an email. This girl, the one who had left him, had rung his doorbell the day before, completely out of the blue. They spent a few hours talking at his place, drinking wine and listening to music. He had showed her an early version of the film that consisted solely of the piano section. When the piece was finished, she shed a tear, told him that it was the most beautiful thing that she had ever seen. They kissed – I don’t know the rest of the story, but David can fill you in. At any rate, if in the future someone asks me why I made films, I will always think of David Moore.

Translated by Tara Dominguez