There is also a gathering around memory. What has happened is neither forgotten nor forgettable. It is present, in scars and traces. Whether they like it or not, the cities bear stigmata, some glorious, some shameful, some recent, some ancient. And History is just part of a network of implicit, shared connivances. We know. The film doesn't need to say much. Just, sometimes, through a sound, a voice, to recall the random arbitrariness of events, ruins or survivors.

And bodies, or rather the absence of bodies. Faceless. The part stands for the whole. The feet and hands of anonymous commuters. Sometimes a back, a silhouette — and out of focus. The aim is not to show, to impose a person, however fleeting. This would turn them into screens, forcing the attention, even if for a second. We hear the cities, see them, in their nakedness. They are the players. They are showing themselves and Annick Blavier has seen and heard them.

Jacqueline Aubenas