The simple evocation of the Grail, besides the renewed pleasure of saying or hearing this word among the strangest of our language (three harsh consonants softened by the redoubled vowel),
always brings forth the same vision once received in a dark room: “This is the material that dreams are made of” leaves Sam Spade about the Maltese falcon, the gold statuette around which the protagonists of the first film clash from John Huston.
I am therefore particularly happy and proud to preside over the fourth edition of the unusual film Rennes-le-Château where two days during the Seventh Art will be renamed “Seventh Graart”. In my experience, because there are almost as many definitions as Grail searchers, this word means an elsewhere, an afterlife,
an outer or inner border which sometimes seems to fade away as we approach it, but which gives meaning (understood in the twofold meaning of direction and meaning) to our lives,
If you were persuaded, I would try to persuade you that I would be the simplest addition of a barbager in the boom of pure materialism and bannir toute form of transcendance. That is to say, that it is not necessarily a voyage to the recipient, where it was collected the blood of Christ sur la croix,
but in my personal case towards surrealism (André Breton and the others would doubtless have a bad eye that I associate this movement with a spiritual step, I take the risk), towards a scene where I went up in the company of an artist to whom I have devoted for forty years a boundless admiration or even towards football,
another passion whose symbol is not without evoking the statuette of the Maltese Falcon – the famous world cup.I wish you not to find your Grail, but to start looking for it.

Eric Naulleau