Odds and ends




soon (92 pictures)


This series brings together several key topics such as ecology, space, relics, technology, precarity, collision, and explores two territories: Metropolitan France and French Guiana. This series is an attempt to make a documentary about a probability: a photographic investigation about the signs of the end of the World – seeking evidence of its decay. Shooting to seize the nature of something as it truly is. Each situation, object or form I encounter is raising a question not only about its own reality but also about what it might be. This is how I contemplate the world and make images. I then tell a story in which Humans should leave Earth, with the air pollution and distressed agriculture turning the planet and its ecosystem into an unbearable place for humankind. Jean-Christophe Bailly writes about this series: « That story is based on how fragments, wastes or leftovers, especially technological objects, are shifting into a meaningful unit – kind of « relics of the future ». Conveying both mystery and anxiety: they question the tomorrow, the after, the post-accidental, without any pathos nor effects, as if they could unveil the Future of Earth. » The title of the series refers to a content rather than a subject. It produces a substance that has been shaping itself through various investigations and heterogeneous subjects: Aircraft dismantling platform in Chateauroux, Armed Forces Biomedical Research Institute in Brétigny-sur-Orge, Air Zero-G in Mérignac, Guiana Space Centre in Kourou, Fire station in Colmar (etc.). Images interact with each other through a detail, a tone, a form – outlining a scenario whose shape arises from the accumulation of photographs. That work deals here with omen, underground force, delays and fall. The desire for fire (as well as for its reversal) and for departure. A documentary poem about the birth and the end of the world. To me, both the symbolic power of space and this « fatal tale » are ways to talk about the world we inhabit.

read more : Le paysage d’après, Nicolas Giraud