You played three sold-out shows in New York. Were you nervous?

The Hiro Ballroom was so crowded — I didn’t really expect it. People were right up against me! I have a lot of fright and you have to get used to the fact that you wake up being scared and stay scared. I imagine you get used to it over time. When Hiro came up, it was less traumatizing than the Bell House. I started in Paris doing small showcases, with about nine songs, and it was really terrifying. You don’t really want to play in your hometown, and Paris [is] well known for not being the nicest audience. Even though the people were really sweet, I was so nervous. But there is something very exciting about being with musicians that I love. That’s why I wanted to tour.

How do your approaches to your music and acting careers differ?

You’re always personal — no matter what, but there’s a camouflage with film because you’re using someone else’s words. It’s always in disguise. I felt very naked in Lars’ film. It was very personal; you show yourself in a personal way. With the music, it’s completely different. I don’t write. I participate because I’m there but [the] only thing I can bring is to be as intimate with the music. They are Beck’s words; there are references that are his. That did put a little distance, and in that way it’s like acting. Even in singing, I could hear a difference from what I have done in the past — like another persona revealing itself.

Did your own experience as a mother come into play in your performance as a woman who loses her child in Antichrist?

I don’t even want to think about how they relate. I refused to think about my children in terms of a sense memory while I was working on the film. I didn’t [want] to think about myself as a mother at all; it was completely outside. It was too painful to imagine myself as a mother. I didn’t focus on the mother side. For me, the character was going mad because of a loss she couldn’t deal with and I didn’t want to personalize that. I had to learn how to cope with my emotions from the role separately from my personal experience. It’s almost a superstition — you don’t want the two worlds to interact.

As an artist who has lived a very public life (being the child of two very famous people), if your children wanted to pursue a career in acting or music, would you encourage them towards that kind of a public existence?

My son is exactly at the age when I started working. We live in France so we’re very well protected. It’s been easy to stay private. They don’t suffer. Of course I would love for them to do something creative and encourage it.