13 min read

This Is My Fascination, Vol. 6

This Is My Fascination, Vol. 6
Photo by Eloïse Larbarbe-Lafon

Back in April, I spent an afternoon talking with my friend Jessie Barr about her fascination with the multifaceted musical artist who sometimes goes by the name "Christine and the Queens." I've been a huge admirer of Jessie's ever since I had the pleasure of reviewing her short film "Too Long At the Fair" at Bright Wall/Dark Room in 2018, and that admiration only grew with the release of her debut feature, Sophie Jones, in 2021. Jessie's voice as a filmmaker is sharp yet empathetic, and (as you'll read below) she's eternally impassioned, which made her an ideal candidate for a "This Is My Fascination" installment. Jessie's excitement was peaking the day we spoke, as Christine and the Queens had recently made a cryptic announcement concerning new work (soon revealed to be the single ‘Rentrer Chez Moi’), so it was a bubbly and effusive conversation that I hope you enjoy!


JB: So you'd never heard of Christine and the Queens? 

EW: They were brand new to me. 

You're welcome. 

You said the new album [Paranoia, Angels, True Love] was the most fascinating. 

That's not fair, Ethan! 

I’m misquoting you. 

Chris’s entire oeuvre is absolutely stunning, and you need to see where he began, because then you see the evolution, and the transformation. But this latest album–Paranoia, Angels, True Love–was a stunning, operatic, theatrical, Shakespearean-level masterpiece. And I don't overuse that word, like everyone on Twitter does. I'm different.

So the first song I ever heard from Christine and the Queens was “Tilted.” I was like, Who the fuck is this? And I also was like, This person is so hot. The photo was Chris holding a bouquet, sort of like prom, in a suit, with awesome shoes. And I was like, What is this vibe? And French? I was like, I'm obsessed. So that was the song that introduced me to the world that is Christine and the Queens. That was from the first album, in 2014, called Chaleur humaine, which - of course I fall in love; in English, that means Human warmth. Hello!

And then I just became totally obsessed. And I did end up seeing Chris in concert in LA at the Wiltern in 2018, and I got to the very fucking front. I was at the stage, my chest pressed against it. And it was for the release of the album Chris, which was actually a really revelatory album, because–whatever, fuck labels, and Chris is like, Fuck labels, but his relationship with queerness has been extremely enlightening to me. It's also helped me discover my own relationship to my own queerness, so that was a big awakening for me, not only artistically, but also in terms of my identity, which is, I think, why I also feel so connected to him and his work. 

But the album Chris was really when he went from–and please, Chris fans don't come for me - or do come from me, correct me if this is wrong–but he went from identifying as a queer pansexual to then using masculine pronouns and stepping into his transness. That was the 2018 album Chris. I felt really connected to, and inspired by, his connection to his queerness. Also, this idea of art as healingas liberation–music as both connection and simultaneously transcendence. And for me, the origins of him as an artist–it's a superhero tale. And, of course, also, he's a huge fucking theater nerd, which–ding ding, hello, me too!

So in 2010, he left the theater conservatory he was studying at, because he suffered an incredible heartbreak - like, lost his mind. And in 2010, he ran away to London, and he took refuge in the arms of a house of drag queens. And they saved him–they nourished him, they nurtured him, they listened to him, and his name is in honor of them: “the queens” are the drag queens that helped literally create who he is as an artist. 

He also comes from the theater world, which is so revelatory, and striking, because his stagecraft when I saw him in concert - honestly, Ethan, it is, to this day, the most extraordinary concert I've ever been to in my life. He's so puckish and clownish, and he's innocent, and has this childlike openness. At the same time, his dance - his body, his relationship to movement and form, is unbelievable. He also directed the fuck out of that 2018 show. The images are so cinematic. There was one I remember that was just sand. He stood at the microphone, just him alone, empty stage with soft light, and then behind him, there was just a stream of sand that started to slowly descend. And it just descended for the whole time he's singing, and then at the end, when he left the stage, it was just a small pile of sand. Just incredible. He had a number where it was him and this incredible French troupe of dancers, and he not only holds his own, but is just an incredible mover and dancer. Each of the performers had their own moment, and then they end up slow-motion fighting. At the end, they look like a Renaissance painting, their bodies - it's just crazy. I also think Rosalia - not stole, but, like, paid homage to that in her Motomami tour. She had her dancers become a motorcycle, and she rode them, and Chris had already done that. But, love them both. 

Also, the videos that Chris either directs or works with different directors on–there are a few, like “The Walker,” where he plays a peaceful bullfighter. “5 Dollars” is him basically cosplaying American Psycho, but he's playing with masc and femme outfits. And then La vita nuova is classical theatrical. You're watching, like, Pavarotti singing but it's Chris dancing. And then the other really recent video that I think you should definitely watch is Christine and the Queens Live in a Church. It's them performing the entire Paranoia, Angels, True Love album, and it's absolutely stunning. The other thing: Redcar les adorables étoiles (prologue) was a self-released album that he made when he lost his mom. And it was him channeling his grief over losing his mother, which also was a huge part of Paranoia, Angels, True Love. I lost my dad when I was 16, and that's something that I, for a long time, ran away from, and didn't want to put in my art, because it felt masturbatory, or like I was using it or something. That felt wrong to me. And then I realized, Oh, no, I'm an artist, that's what I have to do. And, in fact, it was making me ill to not do that. So his openness with “People I've Been Sad”–that song is just so moving. And what I love about Paranoia, Angels, True Love: the duality of using Angels in America, the gay fantasia by Tony Kushner. And there's so much of Wings of Desire, that Wim Wenders movie, which is one of my favorites of all time. It is an examination of queerness, and the supernatural, and ghosts, and also the play Angels in America, which begins with a funeral. The end is always a beginning. 

I'm trying to think of the best way to organize things. Is an album-by-album dive a way to do it? Because there’s only four, right? 

Yes, that's true. 

Let’s talk about each of them for a little while. I don't know how to pronounce French words, but Human Warmth–is that what we say?

What I love so much about this was: it was my introduction to this person, and this artist. There was definitely a lot of Michael Jackson-inspired stuff, with the dance moves, and the outfit with the white loafers. And I think what was so cool is: when I heard the song, and then I saw the artist, and then I watched the videos, [I was] like, Oh, this is someone who is in full control of their artistry. It's not just that he's a singer. He's a dancer. He's a director. It felt so full already. And I feel like that's rare. When you're creating you get better each time, right? You reveal more about yourself, you learn more about yourself. So for him to come out of the gate with this album, and for it to feel like such a fully fleshed-out creation was really inspiring to me.

It's got a lot of songs. What are your favorites?

I love “Nuit 17 à 52.” That was one song that was on that 2013 song drop that he then reproduced and repurposed for this album. I love that song a lot. Obviously “Tilted” is one that I'm obsessed with. It was the hit that everyone listened to. “Chaleur humaine,” the title track, I just love. I love all of it, honestly. And I really love the videos with these performances that he did, because they're very playful, especially if you look at the “Tilted” choreo. It's a little foot tapping behind the other foot. And it's very light and sort of spritely, and there's a lot of buoyancy in it.

You mentioned Michael Jackson–I noticed Michael Jackson, even in the church video that you mentioned.

Similarly, he's talked a lot about Kanye being a huge input earlier on–before Kanye was a known Nazi, and Trumper. What was the article? “What Do We Do With the Art of Monstrous Men”? (I would say monstrous people.) I think it's hard. Two things can be true. I'm not going to hate Chris because he was inspired by Michael Jackson, because I, too, was inspired Michael Jackson when I was 13. I did a lip-syncing contest at my camp, and it was to “Black or White.” I danced as Michael Jackson, I had the gloves, and we won.

He is inspired by artists, and artistry. He has Madonna on as the voice of God (or Goddess) on Paranoia, Angels, True Love, which is pretty fucking insane. The patron mother.

And then in 2018, four years later, we have Chris.

Oh my God, this album made me lose my mind. This was the one I saw the concert for. And it was big, because in 2014, Christine and the Queens had long hair, and was sort of in his androgyny. And with Chris, he cut off his hair, and also shortened, obviously the name, and started calling himself Chris. So it’d say "Christine and the Queens," and then it would have a line through the “-ine and the Queens,” so it was just "Chris." It felt like this redefinition of self, and stepping into his identity, in a way. And this was also the album where he worked closely with this French dance troupe, this incredible group of dancers, (La) Horde, from Paris, they have a reputation for interdisciplinary dance in productions on both stage and screen, which makes so much sense, and why it's such a beautiful partnership. I remember hearing a lot of interviews [with] Chris talking about how he was always a dancer and a mover, but working with that troupe - when you're working with people that push you, and a really talented group of people, you rise to the occasion. They make you better. And so his dance, after working with this troupe on this tour, was off the fucking charts. It was so fun, and so playful. In the stage show, there were moments that were akin to, like, West Side Story, the Sharks and the Jets. 

This whole album I love. “5 Dollars” - obsessed. “Doesn't Matter.” “Goya Soda.” Oh, “Girlfriend.” “The Walker” is the one that has the iconic peaceful bullfighting video. Also, “Doesn't Matter,” the one where he's talking about his masculinity. He did body rolls, and he's going around the troupe, and they're all having sensual connective moments where they're all of the same being but also they look like they're kind of bucking but also playing - it's just so, again, playful. He was like this little clown, and so funny, and whip smart. I remember watching interviews, and it's clear he reads. He loves literature and theater. And I think this album really inspired me, because seeing an artist who is still openly seeking is what I'm interested in. It's not like he's like, This is who I am, I have the answers. Because people were also like, What do you mean you're Chris now and not Christine and the Queens? Because of course, capitalism, we want to label and box and sell it and make merch and brand. And he's like, No. How he's still operating in this very experimental space is really exciting to me. So this album is the shit, and you've got to watch that “5 Dollars” video.

And then another four year gap. And then there's Redcar

Well, La vita nuova is 2020.

That's the EP, right. 

It still counts for me. There are songs like “People, I've Been Sad.” “Mountains (We Met)”— “People, I’ve Been Sad” is unbelievable. It was in 2020, the pandemic, he lost his mom - I believe that's when that happened. And he went on Colbert and did that song, “People, I’ve Been Sad,” which, again, because of 2020, was filmed—he was in Paris in a window. To have the, for lack of a better term, guts to not only share that song that's so deeply personal, but also, when you do a talk show, usually you do your flashy hit that's gonna get you streams and get people to buy your merch. And Chris is like, I'm gonna sing a song about being really depressed because my mom died. It's so simple, and it was just stunning. 

I think the thing I keep coming back to is: he's a true artist. He's really seeking, and he's really hungry, and he's full of desire. I feel so conflicted all the time with my job, and what I do, and the show business of it all, because we all got to eat. It's not that he doesn't give a fuck, it's just he still holds true to what he's on this earth for. And that's so hard. Especially when people could be like, It's too much, or too messy, or too earnest, or too emotional. That too muchness is something I really relate to. I think that's the title of my autobiography: Too Much. That, or: Use Your Inside Voice.

That's a good one.

So we have Redcar now—that's the one I have to say I vibed with the hardest. 

Tell me more.

I found the first one not impenetrable, but - it's such vibes-y music that I got lost in the flow a little bit rather than hearing it as these discrete songs. Will you tell me what is the different character of these two albums—Redcar and Angels? Where is the sonic distinction? And what might I be picking up on where I’m preferring one to the other?

With Redcar, what was so fascinating was that even in the social media stuff, Chris was clearly going through something, and this album Redcar les adorables étoiles, was mixed by producer Mike Dean, who worked with him on Paranoia, Angels, True Love. He's worked with Beyoncé, Frank Ocean. What I love about it is it's so raw and stripped down and handmade. This album was not released by his record label; I think they didn't want him to release it. It feels super raw, and emotional, and being in the throes of grief. When his mom died, he kept seeing these red cars around France. And it was like her talisman, or her spirit. So he took on, or invoked that name, that symbol, for this album, which feels so beautiful. And even the photos that he posted on Instagram, ones he took on a self timer in his apartment. It's not a high concept album in the way that Paranoia, Angels, True Love is. But that's what I love about art. I think he had to make the Redcar album in order to make Paranoia, Angels, True Love. And again, it's sort of like the Fuck you in the face of more commercial, branded—I have to make this album. You don't want to release it, label. Fine. But this is something I have to do. And in order to continue creating and move through what I'm moving through emotionally and artistically, I have to do this. I don't think anyone listened to that album that much. No label pushed it, there wasn't really marketing. I think it was just his tried and true supporters that really knew about it. But then, because of that album, we get this masterpiece. 

And hot on the heels of each other. Interesting.

Clearly, he had a very, very close relationship with his mother. It's cataclysmic. It's the most groundless thing. I lose my dad at 16, I'm like, What if I lost him now? It doesn't matter what age you are. It shakes the core of everything, and you're never done grieving. It's these ebbs and flows. I think those albums are connected by that grief, and by seeking answers, seeking her presence in all things, seeking connection. Looking for the red car. Looking for the angels.

So we've got something new coming in the next few days. Do we know what it is? By the time anybody reads this, it will be known, but I am curious what we know now.

Yeah, so Chris said the film is dropping on the 26th—so that's April 26, 2024. It said 11 AM Paris time, 10 AM London time (because Europe is cooler than us) and that is confirmed. It's cryptic, as he always is before he shares stuff, but it says “Going Home: The Movie” and then it has the date, so I'm not sure if, like, “Going Home” is the name of a soon-to-be-released album, if that's just the song, but it's very exciting. And there's some beautiful artwork that was also released by this artist, Eloïse Larbarbe-Lafon, she's a photographer and she does hand-painted photos. It's a hand-painted photograph of Chris for the cover of his new song. So I believe that the first song will be “Returning Home to Me” or “Coming Home”—”Going Back to My Home,” something like that. But it's exciting, because I kind of was like, Where could he possibly go after Paranoia, Angels, True Love? It's just so huge and full in every sense, the scope, this scale, how transcendent it is, how masterful it is—I can't get enough. I think it's because I grew up being in choirs. My family wasn't religious, but my grandparents were, so we'd always go to church with them. I took communion just because I like the taste of wine. I didn't really know what I was thinking about, the shepherds and whatever, but the harmonies were like ecstasy. Being familiar as a child with those harmonic experiences, and feeling the wall of sound—I think that's why I respond to that stuff. 

Chris's producing ability—that's something else. He works with other producers, but he produces his own stuff. And that was kind of revelatory to me. I know Rosalia does that, and she just won a producer award, but having women and non-binary people - there's a certain level of authorship there that has inspired me as a filmmaker, even though I'm never going to edit my own stuff—I will never be that good. Often I think that's a mistake directors make out of ego, or control. I love collaboration, that feels like a necessary piece of the artistic process to me, but also giving yourself permission to explore that—I wonder if that maybe came from Chris.