'It had been about ten years since my father's death, and I suddenly felt like writing to him. Neither diary, nor essay, nor short story, Blackout is a weaving, a braid made of lines of silence, and tells, in fragments, the story of a dispossession, of an entry into darkness.' - Yann Chateigne Tytelman
Spring 2020. During lockdown in a mountain village with his partner and young child, Yann Chateigne Tytelman becomes haunted by the presence of his dead father. Provoked by memories of him, of their laconic relationship and of the class antagonisms that emerged between them - the father was a manual labourer while his son ''turned his back'' and entered the art world - Chateigne Tytelman starts writing letters on that most mystical, most incomprehensible of phenomena: silence.
