There's no Marcello Mastroianni or Sofia Loren here. Yet the same gentle, discreet sensuality pervades. The exterior décor sings of luxuriance and serenity. The inner dwelling closes in on stolen moments with its suspended shadows. Like Ettore Scola's camera, Adrien Belgrand's painted scenes illuminate a singular temporality, a rare space-time where only radiant anticipation and a taste for contemplation are summoned. The eye slips into a cocoon of caressing, slightly nostalgic finery, where dreams of a better tomorrow and the simple pleasure of time passing crystallise.