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Through a collection of Q&A portraits, the Union introduces the members of the association. Today, Valérie Potonniée.

When and how did you become interested in cinematography?

I must have been about 12 when my mother gave me my first camera — a 6×6 format. I remember that I loved the square image. I took photos of my family, sometimes staging my brothers, my sister or my parents. Then I learned to develop my prints. In the darkroom, I was fascinated by the image appearing. We even had a photo lab at home that I shared with my mother. I could spend hours there.
Then, as a teenager, I went to the children’s film club at the Tuileries — I used to drag a bunch of friends along — and later to the film club at my lycée. I dreamed of making films; one day I told my parents I wanted to go to film school. It wasn’t easy to convince them, but I eventually entered the Conservatoire Libre du Cinéma Français (CLCF).
After school, I started as a camera trainee, then became a 2nd AC, then a 1st AC. I worked with several cinematographers who taught me an enormous amount — about precision, anticipation, and above all humility in the face of light.

“Stranger Than Paradise” by Jim Jarmusch (cinematography: Tom DiCillo)

I think the film has a truly poetic writing, a bit like Boris Vian’s poetry: nothing is conventional — it’s a cinema that invents itself. There are few dialogues; the film tells its story through images and music. This work had fascinated me with its freedom of writing and the way it was shot, with long takes that were either static or interminable car tracking shots. I imagine that if I rewatched it today I probably wouldn’t feel the same emotion, nor be as fascinated.
I love images with strong aesthetic choices, like in that film. I think I also love black-and-white films, because they already imply a transposition of reality.
I remember being struck by the work of Robby Müller and the way he used natural light, and by the austerity and power of Sven Nykvist’s images for Bergman. These DPs showed me that cinematography was much more than a technical craft — it was a form of expression in its own right.Crew on the shoot of “L’Homme est une femme comme les autres” by Jean-Jacques Zilbermann, 1998 (cinematography: Pierre Aïm). From left to right: Agathe Grau (script supervisor) above Marie Sorribas (2nd AC), I am below (1st AC), Alice Ormière (script trainee), an electrician (whose name escapes me), Béatrice Mermet (3rd AC) – Photo Nathalie Eno

I then started working as a cinematographer on a series of documentaries for Capa Télévision, projects for the TEVA channel. These were short documentaries, sometimes reports, shot with a small crew and requiring speed.
The transition from assisting to lighting was not straightforward for me. In fact, moving from assistant to cinematographer, I initially felt like I was losing my bearings. As an AC, I knew my role perfectly — the lenses, the focus, the mechanics. But as a DP, suddenly the whole image was my responsibility: the light, the framing, the emotional tone. It took time to find my own voice.
I think what helped me most was accepting that I had to start small, with projects that didn’t intimidate me, and gradually build confidence. And the fact that I’d been observing DPs closely for years as their AC meant I had unconsciously absorbed a great deal.

On the set of “Houna” directed by Badria El Hassani

What types of films have you worked on, and what would be the ideal next project?

I’ve mainly worked on documentaries. For Capa Télévision with director Françoise Cros de Fabrique, for L’œil et la Main on France 5 (notably a project with Alice Diop, Premiers amours). I mostly work in alternative circuits on projects with limited means, broadcast on television or at festivals, in a very precarious economy.
I recently worked on a series of 5 portraits of young people from the 18th arrondissement of Paris — magnificent young people with inspiring journeys. We shot a lot in the streets, working fast, constantly adapting to the light and to what was happening around us. It was intense and deeply rewarding.
I dream of shooting a feature film one day — a fiction project where I could really take the time to craft the light and the frame.

In Rabat, on the set of “Houna” directed by Badria El Hassani

Would you like to work on a fiction film?

Yes, as Charlie Vandamme says, I believe that “light is one of the performers of a film.” I love reading a screenplay, visualising the film and entering the director’s world. In that case, I would need to relearn how to work with a larger crew.

What are your artistic sources of inspiration?

I have many sources of inspiration: the films I see, photo exhibitions, paintings, natural light too. For instance, the day I entered the Sagrada Familia in Barcelona and sunlight was streaming through the stained glass windows, I was overwhelmed by the beauty of the light. Those moments of grace feed your work without you even realising it.
I’m also inspired by everyday life — the way light falls in a kitchen in the morning, the shadows in a stairwell. I think that being a DP means constantly training your eye, even when you’re not working.

“Princes et princesses de la street” cinematography and direction by Valérie Potonniée

Do you remember any regrettable but ultimately instructive blunders?

No — and yet I must have made plenty. In fact, I think it’s through my mistakes that I’ve learned the most.

Have you experienced moments of doubt about your work or your professional environment?

A great deal — even while answering these questions.

On the set of “Houna” directed by Badria El Hassani – Photo Asma Hammouche

Do you recall setting up a particularly original cinematography rig?

No — I work on projects with limited means, and the setups I devise are always simple.

Have you ever wanted to move into directing?

Sometimes I direct documentary films. In that case I put together a small crew — a camera operator, a sound recordist, an editor, a fixer if we’re abroad — but I always do the lighting myself. I always light the documentaries I direct.
The desire to direct comes from wanting to tell stories that I feel are important, stories I encounter in real life that deserve to be seen. But I always come back to the light — it’s my first language.

La réussite est un long parcours: Loil / cinematography and direction by Valérie Potonniée

What do you love and what do you dislike about your profession?

I love — I’m even fascinated by — film crews. I find it magical that so many people, in such different trades — artists, technicians, craftspeople — manage to work together so well for the same film.
I don’t like not knowing when the next project will come.

What advice would you give to an aspiring cinematographer?

Trust your instincts. Don’t try to imitate anyone — look at the world with your own eyes and find your own way of translating what you see into images. Be patient, be humble, and never stop learning. And never forget that cinema is a team sport: the best images come from the best collaborations.