A first name that's too ordinary, a too complicated surname and too many questions about my Jewish origins, Léa Eigenmann was the name I was given when I arrived. Since then, Léa has chosen her words, which she does not mince, with varying degrees of care.Léa sometimes speaks too much, sometimes too loudly, afraid of taking up too much space. Léa is always the go-between, the storyteller, because she looks for the right words, the ones that cut through or heal. Léa loves drunkenness, laziness, Léa writes to catch the passing of time."Shit, it's already September", she thinks as she walks home at dawn. Léa doesn't sleep. As she writes these texts, she wonders: how do you trace the contours of a human being? She attempts some answers, and I don't always agree with her. We could say that they are more like crossovers, the result of an encounter.
Léa feels lucky that the ten others have found their way to her.
Léa Eigenmann is a writer who holds a Master's degree in History and Aesthetics of Cinema from the University of Lausanne. Alongside her academic writing, she developped a freer, more poetic and fictional style. She is interested in writing for the theatre and directing, notably through two assistantships for TITUBA by the Faites des Vagues collective at the TU and On ne badine pas avec l'amour by Jean Liermier at the Théâtre de Carouge. Marked by a certain orality, her texts are made to be heard, and she seeks to explore the boundary between reading, writing and directing. Léa is a keen observer of the details of everyday life, the banal interactions of daily life, which she transcribes with humour and finesse. When she's not writing for herself, she writes for others, notably as a press agent for festivals such as FdS and GIFF. She is also a member of the curatorial teams of the NIFFF and the Tourne-Films Festival. One of her texts, Un peu de silence, was recently published in the Format Papier 8 publication.