just to amuse myself and the audience. Do you understand what I mean?

S.: I understand, but certain members of the audience can't resist pointing out that Bergman is sending messages, he thinks, but

what are they and why?

B.: You must realize — this is very important! — I never ask people to understand what I have made. Stravinsky once said, "I

have never understood a piece of music in my life. I always only feel."

S.: But Stravinsky was a composer. By its nature, music is non- discursive; we don't have to understand it. Films, plays, poems,

novels all make propositions or observations, embody ideas or beliefs, and we go to these forms —

B.: But you must understand that your view is distorted. You belong to a small minority that tries to understand. I never try to un-

derstand. Music, films, plays always work directly on the emotions.

S.: I must disagree. I'm afraid I didn't make myself clear —

B.: I must tell you before we go on to more complicated things: I make my pictures for use! They are made to put me in contact

with other human beings. My impulse has nothing to do with intellect or symbolism: it has only to do with dreams and longing, with

hope and desire, with passion.

S.: Does it bother you when critics interpret you through these items?

B.: Not at all. And let me tell you, I learn more from critics who honestly criticize my pictures than from those who are devout.

And they influence me. They help me change things. You know that actors often change a film, for better or worse.

S.: May I ask you how "The Touch" differs from the one you intended?

B.: I intended to paint a portrait of an ordinary woman, for whom everything around was a reflection. Bibi Anderson is a close

friend of mine — a lovely and extremely talented actress. She is totally oriented towards reality, always needing motives for what she

does. I admire her and love her. But she changed the film. What Bibi Anderson did made the film more comprehensible for ordi nary

people and more immediately powerful. I agreed with all her changes.

S.: You use music less and less in your films. Why?

B.: Because I think that film itself is music, and I can't put music in music.

S.: If you could have shot all your films in colour, would you have?

B.: No. Because it is more fascinating to shoot in black and white and force people to imagine the colours.

S.: Do you work in colour now— to any degree — because you feel that the audience demands it?

B.: No. I like it. At the beginning, it was painful, but now I like it.

S.: Why do you use so much dialogue in your films?

B.: Because human communication occurs through words. I tried once to eliminate language, in "The Silence", and I feel that

picture is excessive.

S.: It's too abstract.

B.: Yes.

S.: Some people have criticized your films for being too theatrical — particularly — the early ones. How do you answer this

charge?

B.: I am a director —

S.: But aren't the two forms different?

B.: Completely. In my earlier pictures, it was very difficult for me to go from directing in the theatre to directing films. I had al -