I shot “Red Riding Hood” in Versailles on a November day, and I had only arrived a few minutes when huge, grey, and impressive clouds turned up. When I reached the gardens, it was raining as if it would never stop: as if the sun would not reappear and let the Versailles shine bright as a diamond. I set my pride aside and thought: “Being the Belgian I am, the rain won’t hold me from discovering the place!” and dived into the treasure.
At first, I was upset because I felt the rain was spoiling the moment. I nevertheless realized that, on the contrary, it was offering the opportunity to uncover its vulnerable and touching side. Colors, which would otherwise go unnoticed, suddenly brightened up next to the dimness of the surrounding grey, brown, and beige tints.
The red coat of the tourist reminded me of Red Riding Hood walking in thick yet organized woods and mazes. A thought kept on turning up: What was she thinking about? Did she realize an eye was watching her? Or was it the big bad Woolf?
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