It is not a new thing for artistic processes to be inspired by some of the more menial aspects of life. Campbell�s Soup and Coca-Cola cans were an inspiration for Andy Warhol. Several stories in a 1967 Daily Mail newspaper came to be the basis for some of the lyrics John Lennon wrote for �A Day in the Life.� Brian Wilson used recordings of barking dogs, trains, bicycle bells and dog whistles when producing what would become his magnum opus, Pet Sounds.

In all of these instances, some of the most ordinary, familiar and everyday objects have inspired and been incorporated into some of the most innovative artistic works.

And then came Vincent Moon, a 26-year-old Parisian filmmaker, whose unique film vignettes, called the �Takeaway Shows,� feature popular independent music acts performing in and exploring everyday urban surroundings.

�Sessions are filmed as a unique shot without any cut,� writes Moon on his website. �We usually haven�t much time to record them, so the groups have to be spontaneous and play with what they have with them, and with their environment, whether there�s a public audience or not.�

In some of the episodes, you might see the Arcade Fire or Liars banging out their songs in elevators. In others, you might witness Grizzly Bear singing the much-covered hit �Knife� a capella as they saunter down the Parisian streets or perform acoustically in an apartment bathroom.

But in all of the episodes, you will see both the musicians and the camera interacting with everyday urban surroundings, creating and capturing a somewhat fortuitous beauty that is both foreign and familiar.

As a result, the �Takeaway Shows� � available on the French music weblog, La Blogotheque � have generated quite a buzz in the music community. This spring, Moon and crew will celebrate the two-year anniversary of the �Takeaway Shows,� and we were lucky enough to have the opportunity to talk to Moon about the past, present and future of his film series just before its second birthday.

In full disclosure, the following interview with Moon actually took place in December via e-mail. For the sake of conveying the intimacy and naturalism of the �Takeaway Shows,� I have restructured the interview to be written as though we had actually met and talked, thus framing the conversation in the way Moon might have, had he filmed it as something to �take away.� Moon himself told me in the interview, �I like to think that the filming and editing [of the �Takeaway Shows�] really makes you feel that you have experienced something,� and I hope to approximate the same feeling and make this encounter feel like it could have been experienced by anyone.

Everything attributed to Vincent Moon was indeed said by him, just not in the context that I have imagined. So without further ado, The Badger Herald presents a �Takeaway� lunch:

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Vincent Moon and I decided to meet at a restaurant of his choosing. Upon arriving, I instantly recognize the man sometimes seen floating in and out of his videos, sometimes carrying a microphone and at other times wearing a pair of headphones.

He looks as though he has not shaved in several days, but at the same time, his not-yet-realized beard perplexingly seems to have a sort of permanence to it.

I introduce myself, and we sit down. I glance over the menu and begin to discuss what I might eat in the way people rely on menus for small talk upon first meeting. Our conversation of the cuisine somehow finds us talking about the inspiration for the �Takeaway Shows,� which, ironically, is food-related.

�My partner Chryde [Moon] and I were picking up some dinner one night before a show and we were both so tired that we thought, �Instead of going to the whole show, wouldn�t it be nice if we could take that to-go also?�� says Moon in an accent that is easy to identify as French.

I am at once surprised.

�Take-out food and fatigue, the inspiration for the �Takeaway Shows�? Really?� I think to myself, straining to keep a casual facade, so as not to make my incredulousness noticeable to him. After thinking it over further, I realize it is too fitting. Isaac Newton comes up with the universal law of gravitation after seeing an apple fall from a tree, Vincent Moon comes up with the �Takeaway Shows� while waiting for food before a concert.

He continues talking and mentions that his enthusiasm for flipbooks was pivotal in developing an interest in doing film.

�My background is really in photography, but I became very bored with still images and so I started making flipbooks with my photos,� he says.

I think of the antiquated, literal term �moving picture.�

�I made a different flipbook every day, and eventually,�I got tired of flipping and thought I should just film instead,� he adds.

And thus the �Takeaway Shows� were born of take-out meals and flipbooks. I finish my round of preliminary questions by asking about the artists � not the objects � that inspire his work.

�My main influence today is certainly Jean-Luc Godard,� he answers. �But yesterday it was Peter Tscherkassky, and tomorrow it might be Stan Brakhage again.�

I nod, only knowing one of the three artists mentioned. But Godard�s preference of real locations instead of sets and his disregard for continuity and convention all seem present in Moon�s work, I think to myself.

�I also love having my friends being involved in the filming process and keeping productions very small,� Moon continues. �I try to make my process as transparent as possible so that people will feel that filmmaking is accessible and feel inspired to do their own projects.�

He may have achieved that goal.

I mention the recent video I had seen on YouTube where a band performs acoustically in the back of a taxicab. Everything about the video had used the �Takeaway Shows� as a reference point. The news of this seems only to humble Moon.

�Has someone been affected?� he replies genuinely. �What wonderful news! Seriously, I know it had some great impact in the last months, a lot of people seem to start filming the world �differently,� in a more intimate and simple way, more human way, but that is not due to my work � it�s something that our generation needed, something in the air with all the digital era, and I�m just part of it.�

I suggest that the Internet is interesting because of it how it can simultaneously connect and disconnect us. I immediately regret saying something so cliche. I try to recover by asking about how plausible or successful the �Takeaway Shows� might be without the Internet.

�It might be possible and it might be successful, but I don�t think that I would be doing it,� Moon responds. �It�s the Internet which allows it to be free and accessible, and that�s something I really love about it. I�m a futurist. What�s the point of making a project for any context that isn�t now or tomorrow?�

I shrug, not able to tell whether the question is rhetorical or if I should attempt to answer it. I ask him a question so as to avoid answering his.

�What is the process behind deciding how you will shoot each band or artist?�

�I love improvisation!� he exclaims. �If any planning does happen, it usually happens on the way to the filming. Of course, each project is different, but the less I plan the more that always seems to happen.�

The last sentence resonates with me.

I realize I am pretty much out of questions, except perhaps what he might be doing with the �Takeaway Shows� in the future. I ask if he has considered putting together a DVD or anything of the sort.

�We�ve thought about it, but there�s no real plans yet,� he replies. �Maybe I�ll put a giant flipbook together! That�d be cool, with some sounds hidden somewhere.�

I laugh. I remember that there is another question I was meaning to ask.

�What is your favorite �Takeaway Show� segment and why?�

�The Dirty Projectors� �Takeway� for sure,� he answers without hesitation.

�I loved that one, too,� I reply.

�A friend of theirs was recording sound, and now she�s my girlfriend,� he continues.

�Maybe we like that one for different reasons then,� I joke. He laughs.

We finish our meals, and he tells me he should be going. I shake his hand, preparing to say my farewell in his native French, but then realize I�d just look foolish. The last thing I say to him is: �Thanks for having lunch. It was nice meeting you, and I really dig your shows.�