Latest news with #Clément
Cision Canada
4 days ago
- Business
- Cision Canada
Clément Chenneveau Joins Altium Wealth Architecture to Enhance Strategic Advisory Services for UHNW Families and Entrepreneurs in Quebec Français
MONTREAL, June 11, 2025 /CNW/ - Altium Wealth Architecture, a distinguished independent multi-family office headquartered in Montreal, is pleased to announce the appointment of Clément Chenneveau as Client Advisor*, Wealth Management. This strategic addition underscores Altium's commitment to delivering bespoke wealth management solutions to ultra-high-net-worth families, entrepreneurs, and sophisticated investors. With nearly a decade of experience advising affluent clients—including multigenerational families, C-suite executives, successful entrepreneurs, and institutional investors—Clément brings a comprehensive background in asset management, capital markets, and private wealth advisory. His tenure at leading Canadian wealth management firms has honed his expertise in navigating complex financial landscapes. At Altium, Clément will leverage his deep expertise to craft and implement intricate wealth strategies, collaborating closely with Altium's dedicated Investment Management team as well as specialists in fields such as tax and insurance. He will play a pivotal role in expanding Altium's presence in Montreal and fortifying relationships with entrepreneurial families across Quebec and Canada. "The addition of Clément to our team reflects a clear commitment to strengthening our presence in Quebec and providing even more tailored support to the families we serve, both here and across Canada. His proven expertise, combined with our integrated approach centered on family, investments, and business, will help enhance our wealth architecture while staying true to the values that guide us", explains Sam Younès, President and CEO of Altium. "Joining Altium enables me to continue delivering what I've always aimed to offer: independent, sophisticated advice that truly aligns with the wealth management needs of today's ultra-high-net-worth families. We go well beyond traditional portfolio management—what we offer is a comprehensive architecture of family wealth", said Clément. About Altium Wealth Architecture Based in Montreal and founded in 2013, Altium Wealth Architecture Inc. is an independent multi-family office specializing in multigenerational wealth management and investment management for entrepreneurial families, founders and private foundations. Its mission is to provide an integrated, rigorous, and tailored approach, enabling clients to preserve, grow, and transfer their wealth for generations to come.
New Straits Times
01-06-2025
- Sport
- New Straits Times
Wild celebrations in Paris after PSG's Champions League win
PARIS: Thousands of Paris Saint-Germain supporters took to the streets of the French capital on Saturday to celebrate their club's victory in the Champions League final, but nearly 300 arrests were made following clashes with police. The majority of fans celebrated peacefully, but Paris police said scuffles broke out near the city's Champs-Élysées avenue and PSG's Parc des Princes stadium, where 48,000 had watched the 5-0 win against Inter Milan in Munich on big screens. Most of the nearly 300 people detained were suspected of possessing fireworks and causing public disorder, Paris police said. AFP journalists saw police use a water cannon to prevent a crowd from reaching the Arc de Triomphe. "Troublemakers on the Champs-Élysées were looking to create incidents and repeatedly came into contact with police by throwing large fireworks and other objects," police said in a statement. Outside Paris, police reported that a car ploughed into fans celebrating PSG's win in Grenoble, in southeastern France, leaving four people injured, two of them seriously. All those injured were from the same family, police said. The driver handed himself in to the police and was placed under arrest. A source close to the investigation said it was believed the driver had not acted intentionally. In Paris, most fans expressed their joy by singing and dancing in the streets, with car horns sounding, after their team won the biggest prize in European club football for the first time in their history. One 20-year-old PSG supporter, Clément, said: "It's so good and so deserved! We have a song that talks about our struggles and it hasn't always been easy. "But we got our faith back this year with a team without stars. They're 11 lads who play for each other." French President Emmanuel Macron's office said he would host the victorious players on Sunday to congratulate them. In a separate message on X, Macron hailed a "day of glory for PSG." "Bravo, we are all proud," he wrote. "Paris is the capital of Europe tonight." Paris Mayor Anne Hidalgo hailed it as a "historic" win. The PSG team will hold a victory parade on the Champs-Élysées on Sunday, when tens of thousands of supporters are expected to gather to catch a glimpse of their returning heroes.
The Guardian
17-02-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
‘They wanted to attack me': Aurore Clément on violent premieres and smuggling bananas for Brando
'People stood up and started to yell,' says Aurore Clément, remembering the day Les Rendez-vous d'Anna premiered at the Paris film festival and caused havoc. This glacial, disquieting film, which appeared in English as Meetings With Anna, follows the titular director on an odyssey around Europe that climaxes with her singing an Edith Piaf song to her lover. And that, apparently, was the final straw. 'They wanted to attack me,' says Clément, who played Anna. 'The journalist sitting next to me put his trenchcoat over me and got me out of there.' The film was the third feature from Chantal Akerman, who loosely based Anna on herself. It was undoubtedly a challenging, elusive film – a series of haunted confessions heard by this film-maker protagonist from lovers, family and wayfarers while on her travels promoting an unknown work. Anna's existential solitude, her refusal to remake herself for her lovers, was quietly radical. 'People weren't ready to accept it at the time, its feminism,' says Clément of the film, which was released in 1978. 'Society was still very closed, women didn't have much say.' Nearly 50 years on, audiences seem finally ready to embrace it. Meetings With Anna is part of a major retrospective of Akerman's work at the BFI in London, recognition that follows on the heels of her 1975 masterpiece – Jeanne Dielman, 23 Quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles – being voted the greatest film ever by Sight and Sound magazine. A formalistic masterstroke that expanded cinematic notions of time, the film made watching the daily chores of a Brussels housewife for over three hours utterly hypnotic. Meetings With Anna is as much about absence as presence: its import presses in unseen from the outside, as with The Zone of Interest. A malaise, a sense of history and inheritance weighing on ordinary life, hangs over all of Anna's conversations. 'Three things,' specifies Clément, her blue-green eyes gazing at me from under a side-swept blond fringe. 'It's Europe, it's the mother, and the Shoah.' We're sitting in the study of her apartment in Paris's 17th arrondissement, warmly lamp-lit against the dreary February afternoon outside. Clément, now 79, ushers me in like an old friend, bemoaning the Trumpian state of world affairs, slender and curtly chic in a checked dress, blue cardigan and pearl earrings. Scattered everywhere are sketches and paintings, and a beautiful ceiling mobile made by her husband, Dean Tavoularis, Francis Ford Coppola's longtime production designer. She met him while filming Apocalypse Now, in which she had the role of an opium-proffering soldier's widow. Not only did Clément play a version of Akerman in Meetings With Anna, she also played a version of the woman for whom Akerman had a 'terrifying love': her mother, who had survived Auschwitz. The mother character was called Catherine and Clément appeared as her in Akerman's 2004 comedy, Demain On Déménage, or Tomorrow We Move, about the claustrophobic cohabitation of a mother and daughter. In fact, they made five features and several shorts together, even though Akerman initially thought Clément – this solemn, ethereal beauty – was too pretty to play Anna, only to return a year later to offer her the role. Clément became part of Akerman's extended family, with whom she 'danced, ate, laughed, drank, joked, all the time'. Popping a Freedent mint, the actor says she can't explain the magic. 'Chantal and I, it just happened all by itself, without us saying, 'We're going to work together for our whole lives.' It was great.' 'Pas de psychologie!' were Akerman's watchwords for Clément. 'No psychology!' She encouraged the actor instead to pay scrupulous attention to Anna's appearance and gestures, starting with high heels they trawled through over 30 shops to find. The pair in question certainly hit the mark. 'She said the sound of the heels was the sound of Germany,' recalls Clément. 'She didn't have to say more.' Working with Akerman meant acquiescing to a fastidiousness that extended to dialogue, which would be honed 'down to the semicolon'. This was an echo of the control exhibited by the director's mother, who inspired the title character's exhaustive domestic regime in that 1975 masterpiece Jeanne Dielmann. Clément was only too happy to submit. 'I saw very well where she was going. If she was happy and said, 'This is it', then that was it. She was the one who was right.' Maybe this obstinacy, this refusal to yield to the audience by having Anna finally and candidly reveal her interior life in the conventional dramatic way, was what unleashed the anger at that Paris premiere. Clément corrects me: 'Anna holds everything in, but she's not waiting to reveal anything. She's already elsewhere. Elsewhere.' Clément shared Akerman's fiercely prized independence. The actor grew up in grinding poverty, the daughter of two farm workers in the Aisne region, to the north-east of Paris. 'A childhood of total solitude, no friends, no girlfriends,' she says. 'Shut inside, sewing. No books, nothing.' When she was 17, her father died of cancer in her arms. She got a job at the sugar distillery he had worked at, to provide for her disabled mother, and her sister, who died three years later after an ectopic pregnancy. 'That was the profound sorrow that led me to this,' she says, gesturing around her apartment, which is adorned with a lifetime of art and literature. At the age of 20, Clément drove to Paris, armed with books about Greta Garbo, Ingrid Bergman and Marilyn Monroe for inspiration. She points them out on the shelves. This young woman made for the prestigious Catherine Harlé modelling agency and announced that she wanted to do shoots for the likes of Vogue and Elle. Also waiting in the room were three statuesque models. An agent told her: 'Don't even think about it, my dear. Look at them, then look at yourself.' Yet, by the early 1970s, Clément was a regular on magazine covers. When director Louis Malle saw her on the front of Elle, he thought she might be right for his 1974 war film Lacombe, Lucien, about a young French boy who finds himself in the clutches of the Gestapo during Germany's occupation. Clément got the part in the end by demanding Malle stop dilly-dallying. 'I wanted to portray myself as I wanted to be,' she says. 'And if you didn't want me, I left.' This uncompromising stance allowed her to escape the worn grooves of the French industry for eye-catching roles: she would later appear as Anne Henderson in Wim Wenders's Paris, Texas; as the Duchess of Chartres in Sofia Coppola's Marie Antoinette; and as Mireille in Luca Guadagnino's A Bigger Splash. As for Apocalypse Now, she was marooned for weeks in the Philippines amid Coppola's meltdown, only to see her role cut, although it was reinstated for 2001's Redux version. When Clément moved to Los Angeles to be with Tavoularis, leaving the director Miloš Forman, the Coppola family took her under their wing. She became friends with the likes of Jack Nicholson and Marlon Brando, smuggling bananas on to the set of Apocalypse Now for the latter, who was under orders to lose weight. There was as much hard graft, she recalls, as drug-addled lost weekends: 'There was craziness, but not just that. There was gigantic work to be accomplished – and I'm thinking of Dean there, leaving at 5am to build sets. People didn't mess around.' Akerman killed herself in 2015. Clément has never learned the details. Akerman had bipolar disorder, and had been depressed since her mother's death the previous year. The two had been due to meet in Paris. Clément waited for an hour and a half, but Akerman never showed. 'Everyone's still stunned she's not here,' she says. 'Like everything you lose in life, it's hard to explain.' Now, 10 years on, Clément is working to maintain her legacy. On the table in front of us are boxes spilling over with Akerman's papers, heavily edited and annotated by the actor for readings in Paris and her native Brussels. Going over all this old ground has been tough. 'I'm worn out,' she says, 'but it's more an interior fatigue. It's made me remember stuff. You have to stop after a given point.' Although Clément and Tavoularis live in Paris now, they are still in motion in their minds and ever busy. While we're talking, a courier delivers a new script Clément's been waiting for. As we finish up, she makes a call to 'Deanie' to announce our imminent arrival at the 92-year-old's nearby studio, to help him walk back up to the apartment. Stooped and bespectacled, the man who built Don Corleone's study in The Godfather and Kurtz's temple in Apocalypse Now seems nonplussed by the invasion. Surrounded by stacks of pop-artish canvases, he is clearly hard at it. 'You see,' says Clément, gesturing all around. 'We're working! We're working!' Chantal Akerman: Adventures in Perception is at the BFI Southbank, London, until 18 March. A Blu-ray box set, Chantal Akerman: Volume 1, 1967-1978, is out on 24 February
