Camille Claudel

---

Please,

I must see Miss Lipscomb.

At this hour?

It's urgent...about my sister.

You'll wake the whole house!

Miss Lipscomb!

It's Mister Claudel.

She's vanished.

Where could she be?

She told me nothing.

My mother's very upset.

Try the studio.

PARIS, FEBRUARY 1885

Camille, you went digging

for clay again?

I just saw your mother.

She was frantic.

And Paul...

...was ready to look for you

all over the world.

Are you listening?

Boucher is right,

you've got the madness of mud.

You're awful.

You never answer me...

...even when it's about you.

Only your work counts.

Am I meant to be a sculptor?

I'm such a dreamer!

Boucher says that

Rodin is a genius...

...but that he seduces

all the girls.

We'll have to watch out.

He's as scandalous as his work?

All his models sleep with him.

If he faces the light,

we'll see him better.

Toto is transparent.

Don't leave it there.

When I'm nervous,

I need Toto.

He'll think we're mad.

He's here!

Let him in.

Why me?

Let him in!

Hello, young ladies.

Yes, yes...

Yes...I must tell you,

I can't stay. I'm in a rush.

Boucher said...

If I may say...

Boucher...wins a prize, great!

A year in Rome...

...and who wouldn't

rather be in Rome? Right?

But as for replacing him...

...that's a big step!

No, you have to work the clay.

Don't rely on inspiration.

It doesn't exist.

What can I teach you, anyway?

A sculpture takes time.

You have to let it rest...

...forget it...

to better judge it.

I know. I haven't finished it.

It's unfinished.

Also, the timing's bad. I've

taken on much work. I'm swamped.

Have some tea, at least.

Boucher said you left

the Academy. Is that true?

Yes, why?

Shouldn't we have?

No, no. You've already

solved the heating problem.

This is better.

Heating is very important.

My first studio was a stable.

Freezing cold.

A rich lady

wanted a statue of herself.

I didn't have a cent,

so I got some old shoes...

and tried to burn them

for heat, you understand?

The lady arrived and posed...

but the smell!

She passed out from the smell.

The scare of my life!

I thought she was dead.

What's this prehistoric beast?

That's Toto.

A small African rhinoceros.

Didn't you know?

Zero plus zero equals Toto.

It feels so nice here,

I forgot I'm in a hurry.

Monsieur Rodin,

I'd like some marble.

You've worked on stone?

Granite. In the country.

Rhinoceros, granite...

You like challenges, Miss Claudel?

So...

...we'll all

think it over...

We'll see about the lessons.

There are other teachers...

Young ladies, good-bye.

He's so handsome and strong!

And bright! What do you think?

Nothing.

What do you mean, nothing?

We didn't ask him here

to tell us stories.

That was just to get acquainted.

I can't afford it anyway.

That type says, "I know, you don't.

I see, you don't."

You're exaggerating, Camille.

He never mentioned our work!

Do you realize?

What a lout!

Does that amuse you?

Not me.

You can yawn for Papa on Sunday.

Until now

Papa went along with you.

But this time he won't.

The Academy was too disciplined.

You want your freedom.

Sharing a studio

with a dizzy foreigner!

You don't care what it costs!

Classes...rent...

Papa has to earn that money,

cent by cent...

at the expense

of all else.

Some life for a man his age!

Seeing his family once a week!

And what about me?

When he hears that you sneak out

to steal clay...

...keeping us up all night,

making your brother fail school!

All for your whims!

For your so-called "vocation"!

And you upset your brother,

having him...

read filthy books

unsuitable for his age...

Unsuitable for any age!

Leave her alone.

That shameless brat!

My first marble! He'll like it

so much, he'll sign it.

Like Michelangelo with his pupils?

I wouldn't have Hugo

sign my poems.

You're an anarchist, Paul.

A young savage.

I can't bear school.

Thank you for giving me

Rimbaud's poems.

Will I ever be able

to run away like he did?

I love your writing...

...and I adore you.

You alone believe in me.

My little Paul.

You look at me so sweetly.

Is that a sin?

Sin doesn't exist.

MARBLE WAREHOUSE

Limet...

...give this young lady

some marble.

One of the chunks from "Eve."

Excuse me--I'm being visited

by the Ministry of Culture.

Send Louis with her.

Do you have tools for marble?

Good luck, then.

The "Gates of Hell" will be

one of the century's most beautiful...

But you're far from finished...

Are the Cathedrals finished?

What have you worked with?

Green granite...

From Soissons?

Yes.

Eve!

Mr. Rodin is spoiling you.

Pure Pitacci.

Smell it!

This one

will probably do nicely.

That one?

No. This one.

Paros, from Greece.

Be careful, it's fragile.

A hand, or a handout?

Neither one.

Why accept an official order

for work you don't plan to do?

We'll never stay on schedule

this way.

My ideas don't

come from orders.

What did she choose?

The pyramid.

The little one?

Yes, the Paros marble.

She doesn't know

how hard it is to work with.

One wrong tap

and it breaks in half.

She's too young.

She should take lessons.

I saw her work, Limet...

Two heads...an old woman

and a tramp. Merely sketches.

You know, when the clay is more alive

than the model...like real flesh...

That's rare.

You're wrong about her.

She doesn't need lessons.

Boucher is wrong, too.

She'll learn by doing.

"With that horrible warning..."

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