William Segal lived nearly the whole of the twentieth century — magazine publisher, self-taught painter, and a direct pupil of both Gurdjieff and Jeanne de Salzmann. In the last decade of his life he befriended the filmmaker Ken Burns, and together they made a trilogy of short, unhurried films. This is the second.
Burns follows Segal, then in his nineties, to the Romanesque basilica of Sainte-Marie-Madeleine at Vézelay in Burgundy — a site that has drawn pilgrims for nine hundred years. There is almost no narration. What there is instead is light moving across stone, an old man looking, and a few spare sentences about what it costs to actually see. Segal spoke of attention as something renewed moment by moment, never possessed.
What does it mean to truly see?
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