Guy Bourdin

Having tried for many months to meet Guy Bourdin I finally gained access to his studio in Rue des Ecouffes in November 1976. ‘Gaining access’ should be taken literally. All sorts of obstacles were put into the path of those who wanted to meet the great master.
Guy was a phenomenally private person. To approach him was no easy task, for he did not stand fools gladly. He protected his world as an enraged bear would protect his den. To penetrate it you would have to be as simple as a child or as cunning as Mazarin. I don’t know why Guy let me into his presence, perhaps it was his court who looked upon me favourably.

To give you an example. Every day I spent in his studio I was amazed that I survived his constant testing me. At the end of every day someone from his entourage would give me a hint that perhaps I could reappear the next day. It felt like being on probation. So it continued for about two months.
In all this time Guy never spoke to me directly. I was passed his instructions by Heidi or Valentin or Katia or Sybill or Pierre. Only slowly it became clear that I could hope to become his assistant one day.
The first time he ever addressed me directly was when I was standing on a ladder ten feet off the ground trying to fix a backdrop to a pole. I started loosing my balance and the ladder started to wobble. I called out for help, at which Guy, who until then was giggling and laughing with someone, made a loud comment which flew through the studio implanting itself in my back like an arrow: “Icare, un assistant ne demand jamais de l’aide! (an assistant never asks for help)”.
It hurt and I regained my balance and composure. But these words meant that finally he had accepted me as his assistant.