A LOOK BACK AT “Colours of time”: A FILM THAT QUESTIONS OUR RELATIONSHIP WITH THE PAST AND THE FUTURE.

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I am an artist who works on Claude Monet's water lilies. When I saw that this film was coming out, I was intrigued. After reading the film reviews, I thought to myself... should I go see this film? They weren't very complimentary, in fact...
But shouldn't we form our own opinions, exercise our free will, and make up our own minds? Especially since this film made the connection between the past and the present, if not the future, around themes that are particularly close to my heart: painting and photography. So, on July 1, 2025, a scorching hot day, I went to sit in an air-conditioned movie theater.
The film started, and there was a surprise. Such poetry! Such joy! I was completely carried away by the beautifully framed images, so evocative of an era, that of Impressionism, and the soft and magnificent music that accompanied the images. The story itself was original and evocative of so many social issues.
As a painter, I was almost spellbound because this film spoke to me. It talks about the beginnings of artists, whether they are painters or photographers, about the evolution of things, about the difficulty of understanding one's art, about transmission through filiation, about the life of an artist, quite simply.
Past, present, or future, art makes us dream, questions us, unites us. It is the link between all generations.

Sometimes all it takes is a film, a work of art, or a moment of silence bathed in light to remind us how much art is a refuge, a question, and an answer. The arrival of the future has reinforced my deep conviction: we need art as much as we need oxygen. Not just to beautify the world, but to continue imagining it.
In this film, which is both disturbing and contemplative, the past and the present are not a straight line, but a spiral where memory becomes a malleable material, like pigment on a palette. This world immediately reminded me of my Nympheus Luminansis—those paintings where I tried to capture light on the surface of water, the ephemeral in the enduring, and beauty in what we see.
In The Coming of the Future, there is a desire to capture an essential vibration: that of life that persists despite everything through painting and photography, that of humans faced with the mystery of their origins. In my works, as in this film, art becomes a fragile bridge between the visible and the invisible. It does not just tell a story: it allows a feeling to emerge.
What if that were our future? Not a series of innovations or catastrophes, but a return to sensitivity, to contemplation. A reconnection to what beats softly within us thanks to art and artists. In a world saturated with noise and algorithms, art may be our last compass. It teaches us to see, to wait, to love without understanding everything.
That is also why I continue to paint, again and again. Not to freeze beauty, but to seek its reflections. Not to explain the world, but to illuminate it from within. Like this film, my Nympheus Luminansis are fragments of the future. They predict nothing, but they suggest everything. They echo a hope: that art, far from being a luxury, remains an act of survival.

Go see this film just for the pleasure of enjoying yourself and for art with a capital A and for all that it brings. Your artistic sensibility will not be disappointed.