Caught outside the venue in that stretch of evening when the crowd has gathered but nobody has gone in yet.
Eïdo is in the middle of the frame, turquoise linen shirt, grey striped trousers, hair pinned up, a small tan bag on a long strap. A pair of shoes hangs off one finger at her side, which tells you she's been on her feet a while and has made a decision about it. She's watching the man to her right, whose back is to the camera. He's holding open a folded festival programme, Hebrew columns running down the page, and both she and the man on the left are waiting to hear what he finds in it. Somebody is working out what's screening next and everyone else has stopped talking.
Most people know her face from Fauda, where she played Dr Shirin El Abed. That's a role built almost entirely out of held expressions and things not said out loud, and there's a bit of that here by accident. She isn't performing anything. She's reading a man's face while he reads a timetable.
The light is what makes the picture. A red awning fills the top third and dumps warm colour down over all three of them. Behind that the venue interior falls out of focus into blue and green. A magenta streak cuts across the frame at chest height and a wash of purple sits over her arm, both of them reflections, most likely off glass the lens was shooting through. Green foliage crowds in from the right and half-swallows the man with the programme. Long lens, wide open, background reduced to shapes.
Festivals sell tickets to what happens in the dark. The photographs are all out on the pavement beforehand.
