.aesthetic talk
Chloë Cassens
Sacred Monster


written Colter Ruland

There are many ways to first encounter the work of Jean Cocteau. For some, it’s through his poetry and novels; for others, it’s through his films and paintings. While he might have flirted with a number of the major art movements he lived through, he never seemed fully committed to any one in particular, ultimately turning him into a chimera whose influence runs deep within culture, perhaps so deep it runs the risk of being underappreciated.

 

This is why Chloë Cassens decided to start her educational and essay project SACRED MONSTER: to excavate the surprising connections and lasting influence Cocteau continues to have on everything in contemporary life, from art, to celebrity, to sexuality. A writer and representative of the Severin Wunderman collection (the largest collection of Jean Cocteau in the world), Cassens offers an intimate perspective on a towering figure who has more in common with the art, movies and media you like than you might realize.

 
 
Chloë Cassens Photo by Frédéric Tröhler LE MILE Magazine Interview

Chloë Cassens
seen by Frédéric Tröhler

 
Chloë Cassens Adagp Comité Cocteau, Paris, by SIAE 2024 LE MILE Magazine cocteau letter ca 1956 Illustrated Letter, Portrait of Peggy Guggenheim

Jean Cocteau
Illustrated Letter, Portrait of Peggy Guggenheim, s.d. (1956 c.)
Ink on paper, 22,5 x 15,5 cm
Private collection

©Adagp/Comité Cocteau, Paris, by SIAE 2024

 
 
 

“Cocteau’s power and true brilliance comes from the fact that, in my opinion, he and his work were consistent in theme and subject matter, even if it was extremely ahead of its time and taboo.”

Chloë Cassens speaks with Colter Ruland
LE MILE Magazine Digital

 
 

Colter Ruland
When was the first time you were conscious of Jean Cocteau’s importance in your own life?
Chloë Cassens
My grandfather passed away suddenly in 2008, and we were very close. I was 14 years old at the time. I remember being drawn quite strongly towards Cocteau’s work in that immediate aftermath, as it made me feel connected to Severin and was absolutely a way to process my grief. It was the first time that I felt really attracted to Cocteau on my own terms. I think that a large part of my ongoing research and interest in Cocteau will be rooted in that grief. It’s an emotional connection for me, in addition to being an intellectual pursuit.

The next issue’s theme is AGE OF CHANGE, which is fitting given that Cocteau worked across a plethora of mediums. Today one might be tempted to call him a nonconformist but what do you think?
I often say that Jean Cocteau is the cultural equivalent of a Rorschact test. What people define him as, or how they know him, really says more about them than it does Cocteau. Cocteau’s power and true brilliance comes from the fact that, in my opinion, he and his work were consistent in theme and subject matter, even if it was extremely ahead of its time and taboo. In some ways, I think the terms to best describe him came after his lifetime, depending on who’s talking. It’s certainly apt to call him a nonconformist. I’m a rock chick at the end of the day, so in my mind, he was Punk before Punk ever existed.

How do you think the response to Jean Cocteau has changed (or stayed the same) over the years?
It really depends on who I’m speaking with. To the film nerds I live with in Los Angeles, he’s a legend (and they’re not aware that he worked in every medium available to him, but think he was simply a filmmaker); the Parisians I hang with can’t believe that he isn’t a household name internationally, to all generations. To people in the art world, he’s on the upswing, especially following the Peggy Guggenheim exhibition in Venice. What’s consistent is that there’s always something to chew on and appreciate. Very rarely do I run into a negative response to Cocteau’s work, especially nowadays, which is interesting seeing as Cocteau wasn’t even cutting edge, but bleeding edge, so far ahead was he! And it’s a hallmark of those who are really at the forefront, cutting new paths and doing things that are truly different, to not be understood or fully appreciated by the public at large.

 

How do you respond to change in your own life?
I welcome it. I love change and find it comforting. It’s one of the few certainties we have in this life. To go in a woo-woo LA direction, I’m a Scorpio with a stellium in Scorpio. My oldest, closest friend is an astrologer, and tells me that most of those placements are in the 8th house, which signifies rebirth and change, on top of the fact that Scorpios have a propensity towards reinvention. Perhaps it’s just my nature. I get really antsy and irritable when things are too consistent for too long.

You’ve had an interesting trajectory, to say the least, from working at The Roxy as a teenager to DJing to working at The Sex Ed. How do these experiences culminate in your current work as a writer?
Speaking to the way change has affected my life, I’ve always had the mentality that I should roll with it, and go where the wind takes me. I wouldn’t say that I come from a place of “yes”, but rather, a place of “fuck it, why not?” Overthinking things can be my downfall, and jumping into something before asking too many questions has worked out (so far!). I started at The Roxy when I was only 14 years old and told by my parents to get a summer job. I think they would have been satisfied if I’d babysat kids in the neighborhood, but instead I got a job at the local rock club. I didn’t think much of it at the time, I just figured I could walk to work and I liked live music, so I reached out and they were crazy enough to give me a gig.

The same thing happened with The Sex Ed. I was preparing to move to Paris, ironically enough, for a master’s as I was quite stalled at the time. I got an email from Liz Goldwyn saying that we had mutual friends and that because of my DJ experience, could I help with her podcast? I thought to myself, sure, I’ll do this sex thing for a month or two, maybe learn a cool trick before I leave the country, and ended up loving the job so much that I stayed on for four years, and advanced well beyond just producing the podcast.

The same thing happened with SACRED MONSTER. I had the thought that I needed to do it, and jumped in. I started to write, and here we are. There’s never a good time, so you might as well just do that thing now and think about logistics later. While I go where change takes me, I never leave something unfinished, and I never, ever half-ass anything. If I decide to do something, it’s because I think it’s worth my time. If I’ve learned anything, being the granddaughter of someone who was literally called “The Time Lord” while he was alive, it’s that time is our most valuable resource. I absolutely loathe wasting it.

 
Chloë Cassens Adagp Comité Cocteau, Paris, by SIAE 2024 LE MILE Magazine cocteau fear giving wings to courage

Jean Cocteau
Fear Giving Wings to Courage (La Peur donnant des ailes au courage), 1938
Graphite, chalk, and crayon on cotton, 154,9 x 272,1 cm
Collection of Phoenix Art Museum, Gift of Mr. Cornelius Ruxton Love Jr

©Adagp/Comité Cocteau, Paris, by SIAE 2024

 
 

“Cocteau is relevant to contemporary culture in so many ways. As you mentioned, he was a chimera, always changing, never conforming. Pop stars today are expected to have set 'eras,' which is something he was doing way before the practice.”

Chloë Cassens speaks with Colter Ruland
LE MILE Magazine Digital

 
 
 
Philippe Halsman Jean Cocteau, New York, USA. 1949 Philippe Halsman Magnum PhotosLE MILE Magazine

Philippe Halsman Jean Cocteau
New York, USA - 1949

©Philippe Halsman / Magnum Photos

 

Do you think this multi-hyphenate background allows you to better understand the breadth and variety of Jean Cocteau’s work?
I do, to a degree. I have an appreciation for his flexibility in his choice of creative mediums. I think that being literally and figuratively nimble keeps you sharp in life; helps you go further, makes you and your work stronger, and makes you overall a healthier human being in mind and body. Cocteau was constantly experimenting and surrounded himself with young people, which kept his eye looking consistently ahead. I think that perhaps my background has done the same for me.

Do you think there is perhaps a link between your perspective from working at The Sex Ed and the thread of eroticism running throughout a lot of Jean Cocteau’s work? What can this 20th Century eroticism tell us about sexuality today?
I am so grateful to have had my experience at The Sex Ed because it really informs my worktoday in more ways than I can count. First of all, I learned through practice how to educate and meet people where they are on a tough subject. Sex is the background software running in everyone’s life and it informs so much of our decision making, conscious or not. Sex is also extraordinarily taboo, regardless of audience or background or mindset. The deeper I come to understand sex in culture and society the more layers to the taboo there are to discover.

I was hanging out with a new friend, an artist, in Paris not too long ago. He started to tell me that he was interested in exploring some of what he called the “darker” – meaning sexual – aspects of his psyche and incorporating them into his practice. But he was stumped when I asked why he thought merely exploring sex and pleasure would equate to darkness. Maybe for him it was a French, Catholic thing, I don’t know. There’s a lot of really heavy shit tied to sex in that way. At The Sex Ed, we always approached sex from a perspective of joy, emphasizing both the connection between mind and body as well as everyone’s right to pleasure. And I think that Cocteau, in his exuberant, queer – and vulnerable – exploration and depiction of his desires, for lack of a better word, triggered people who clearly had a lot of baggage associated with sex and eroticism. It's a subject that I’m super comfortable talking about. I could talk about sex and art and Cocteau all day long, and again the next day.

 
Chloë Cassens Adagp Comité Cocteau, Paris, by SIAE 2024 LE MILE Magazine Antoine Pividori  Collection Cartier И Cartier Vue 4 Lame entiere Cartier Paris

Cartier Paris

Academician’s Sword for Jean Cocteau, 1955
Gold, silver, emerald, rubies, diamond, white opal (originally ivory), onyx, blue enamel, and steel blade)
Lunghezza: 87 cm
Cartier Collection

©Adagp/Comité Cocteau, Paris, by SIAE 2024.

 
Chloë Cassens Adagp Comité Cocteau, Paris, by SIAE 2024 LE MILE Magazine cocteau 1930

Jean Cocteau
Untitled (Sans titre), 1930
Ink on paper, 29,6 x 20,9 cm
Centre Pompidou, Paris. Musée national d’art moderne / Centre de création industrielle, Gift, 2018

©Adagp/Comité Cocteau, Paris, by SIAE 2024

 

As the representative of The Severin Wunderman Collection (the largest collection of Jean Cocteau in the world), how do you think Jean Cocteau remains relevant in contemporary culture at-large?
I think Cocteau is relevant to contemporary culture in so many ways. As you mentioned, he was a chimera, always changing, never conforming. Pop stars today are expected to have set “eras,” which is something he was doing way before the practice. He integrated the personal into his artistic output in a way that is also pretty normal today but was really looked down on in his time. He worked with whatever technology he had available to him, and wasn’t set in one medium, which is almost expected today. I think for sure he would be on TikTok, and would’ve been early to MySpace and Instagram had he been alive today. The tendency towards provocation I also think is relevant to today. Whether or not he enjoyed it, necessarily, he certainly poked the bear and participated in the 20th century French art world equivalent of what we call rap beefs today (the Surrealists were always big mad at Cocteau for one reason or another). Cocteau understood the attention economy in ways that his contemporaries didn’t.

Your project SACRED MONSTER is a bi-monthly essay project exploring Jean Cocteau, his friends, your grandfather Severin Wunderman, and contemporary culture. Some of the essays chart surprising territory, like connecting the dots between surrealism and Vanderpump Rules, for instance. How do you think the scope of the project will evolve over time?
The scope will evolve as I do, hopefully. I’ve already found that I work best in a “one for them, one for me” pattern with one educational Cocteau deep dive and one slightly broader cultural deep dive per month (like the Vanderpump/Surrealism piece). It’s always anchored and rooted in Cocteau, which is great, because there really is no limit to subject matter there. But I also hope to connect dots elsewhere when it comes to Cocteau and the meeting point between whatever you want to call it—high and low culture, academia and pop. I’m really excited about a piece I’m working on about K-Pop, Blackpink and how they are the latest example of a practice originating from Louis XIV and his cultivation of soft power via French arts and culture.

What was it like being surrounded by Jean Cocteau’s work throughout your life? I understand you even grew up around objects that were originally in his film La Belle et la Bête.
It was, more than everything, a privilege to grow up in this environment. Not a day goes by where I don’t think about how stupidly lucky I am to have had the experience and childhood I had.

 

Did your grandfather ever express how any of Jean Cocteau’s works made him feel?
He didn’t really speak to me about the emotion of it, but I think that there certainly was an element of pride to it. He was surrounded by a collection he worked extremely hard to be able to afford and acquire. He really lived and breathed and immersed himself in it, and anyone in his orbit had no option but to share in that environment as well. Pride and love.

Is there a particular work of Jean Cocteau’s that you continue to find something new in over time?
I always find something new and interesting in La Belle et La Bête. It’s an extremely kinky, layered piece of cinema history, and because it’s a great entry point for people unfamiliar with Cocteau, I find myself watching it a lot. I’ve yet to tire of it. I’ve also been revisiting Cocteau’s erotic novel Le Livre Blanc, which was so scandalous that he originally published it anonymously, as well as Le Testament d’Orphée, which was his final film and a sort of self-written eulogy. If you’re a die-hard fan of David Bowie, which I am, Le Testament d’Orphée was without doubt the blueprint for Blackstar.

What is next for you and SACRED MONSTER?
I have a lot coming. In a lot of ways, SACRED MONSTER is a central place for me to collect all of my work around Cocteau that’s accessible from anywhere in the world, because a lot of what I do involves in-person speaking and lecturing—and I’ll go anywhere that will have me, so don’t hesitate to reach out! I dream of taking SACRED MONSTER global and speaking in places that are new to me, like Japan, South Korea, Brazil, Mexico, truly anywhere. Have passport, will travel. I also have plans for exhibitions and projects that extend past my current essay format.

When it comes to SACRED MONSTER and Jean Cocteau, I guarantee that there is something to interest everyone. You’ll really just have to subscribe and follow along. I promise that if you do, you’ll end up a little bit smarter, which can’t hurt—unless you’re into that kind of thing, in which case, I’m always happy to oblige.