I was driving back from his place today, thinking. Thinking about the fact that I’m so lucky, blessed. Lucky to have met him. Even more lucky to have shared 4 years by his side. Years, full, complete, strong. Memories. Paul, during lunch, asking me NOT to spice my food because he was planning to finish it later. I never finish my food. Our students called him “my second wife”, yep, we were arguing like an old married couple. Him telling me what to do, teasing me, and I, ignoring him. He called me a “hippie”: “Yann, you ****** act like a hippie, you apologize for everybody’s mistakes! Get a grip Brother!!”. Brother, the first time he said it I thought he was acting, kind of trying to play cool, gangsta’. I was wrong. It wasn’t an act, Paul wasn’t acting, never did. Paul loved… or not, but when he loved that was bloody strong!
Paul wasn’t a God, a powered-by-super-power-skills man,… No, to believe that he was will be madness and, on top of that, he wouldn’t like to be seen that way.
He was a man who knew his weaknesses and managed to turn them into strengths. A life lover aware of the fact that death is also a part of life. He told me many times: “Yann, what do we do but wait? There is birth on one side and death on the other, in between we’re just waiting. Better make this waiting good”.
I got lucky.
Lucky to share a part of his life.
Lucky to had the time to tell him one last time: I love you.
Lucky to still be a part of his life.
Lucky to have my memories.
Lucky to be able to wait a little longer.
I don’t really know what to say, or should I say: write. I just don’t wanna see “fake” any more, I want real. Life, smiles or tears even. Darkness if necessary… as long as it’s real. You know, when the unofficial turns to be official it can be painful, terribly sad, but still it’s real. Who am I trying to convince here? Myself I presume. Always been there, inside. A bubble, an invisible soul protector. A safe place where I was able to rest my eyes when the light was too bright. What am I saying? Yes, that’s right: be real.
We all wear one. It’s like an inside solitude, a bubble, a safe place for the thoughts and the soul. A mask. When things feel misplaced, mismatched, unfair even, the mask is an easy escape from reality. I just put it on and my face turn to a big happy smile. What I call my “stand-up comedian face”. The one that makes my thoughts go randomly weird but safe. Strangely enough this is precisely this mask that leaded me to photography: the need to catch people when their masks are off…
I remember shooting Paul while he had his thumb in his mouth. He said: “hey! Don’t shoot me when I’m like this!”. Well, it turned to be one of his favorite shot (and definitely one of mine). The mask was “off”. Same street photography principle applied to portrait: shoot when people don’t expect it, when they’re true. This is where the beauty does lay, in reality, in instant, unprepared, natural… And nothing more.
Paul
Sometimes I feel the urge to see anything but people. Oslo is magic then. I can be downtown in 10 minutes or reach the forest in 5. The sea isn’t far either, it takes 15 minutes by car to reach the Fjord. A city in the middle of the nature. Mountain to the North, sea on the south side. Perfect combination when I, sometimes, feel a little bit anti-social. Not that I am, far to be… but from time to time a little loneliness doesn’t really hurt. Sometimes.
Memory is my best friend. Memories are my best friends as well… sounds kind of logical :) They’re here to remind me, to warm me up when I feel cold. Good, bad, doesn’t matter, they’re all a little piece of me. Walking in the streets of Oslo, remembering all the things that I’ve done, all the people I’ve met, since I moved here. Stores, pavements, buildings, smells even. Bringing memories. Happy ones, some are a little sad too, but they’re all wonderful. I’m learning a lot from my memories, I wouldn’t like to loose any. I sometimes feel ashamed, amused, proud too… But most of all I feel alive, I do have memories.
Yes I do. I dated idiots, lost my soul a couple of times, my pets, met weird people too (I can hear people laughing now). I did stupid things (stop laughing!), smart ones as well (yes, it’s true!)… I lived and do live, still. But anyway, what I’m trying to say is that we should always be happy about what we’ve done and whom we’ve met. Good or bad doesn’t matter. The instant was right and always is when happening. So instead of focusing on the bad sides of our memories we should focus and the bright ones (like the Monty Python would say). We shouldn’t feel sorry for ourselves when we lost something/somebody or feel like we’ve done something wrong, but we should try to remember the reasons why we did act the way we did, why we miss somebody or something. Then everything turns to be so ****** beautiful.
Absurd, that’s the word I was looking for for the past 10 days. ABSURD! You know, absurd. When absurdity becomes so absurd that even reality gets pointless because so clear, so true. When the sky is telling you things you’re not supposed to know, when the time passes too fast but still feels too slow. When you wish to get to a certain point NOW but you know, inside, that it’s not “now” yet. That “now” might comes later, unexpected. Straight in your face. Violently strong, disturbing. Opportunities, smiles,… absurd, silly, stupid, pointless, ineffective even. Simply absurd.
I don’t know you very well, I guess… but it seems that I’m wrong. It is good to know you, good to be a part of your life, of your every days, be a part of your family in many ways. Your pain, your thoughts and your love. I’m looking at the “white nigger” sign in my office, it makes me think about your twisted sens of humor. But, nevertheless (by the way, that’s a word that you love and use all the time), it makes me keep faith.
Grønland last Saturday. Saq and I were doing some street photography when this man stopped us, not sure what he wanted. He wasn’t really clear either, talking about Norway in 200 years and then some more… A strange “bird” in the streets of Oslo.
I just ordered this book (yeah, I know, it’s kind of geeky…)… But, damn I love Information Graphics! People, get your copy on Amazon :)
I haven’t been able to update my blog for a while. Guess I was busy doing something else. Anyway. Thought it was time for a little snapshot!
MKIII / 12800 ISO / 50mm / F1.4 / Toulouse (France)
I worked in the so called “creative business” for some years (almost 20 actually) before teaching. I heard many people talking about themselves as being “creative”… Well, strangely, one of the only true creative person I ever met is a teacher. A powerful, open minded, never ending curios man. Fucked up as well of course but, God man, what a blast! How many people do say, when talking about their own problems: “it is very inspiring”. Inspiration is his key-word, something he’s living for, believe in and stand for… A man like this is unique, a blessing to others,…
Life is good. Oh yes!
Oslo today.
It must be nice to disappear
to have a vanishing act
to always be looking forward
and never looking back
How nice it is to disappear
float into a mist
with a young lady on your arm
looking for a kiss
It might be nice to disappear
to have a vanishing act
to always be looking forward
never look over your back
It must be nice to disappear
float into a mist
with a young lady on your arm
looking for a kiss
It must be nice to disappear
to have a vanishing act
to always be moving forward
and never looking back
How nice it is to disappear
float into a mist
with a young lady on your arm
looking for a kiss
Looking for a kiss
float into a mist
Lou Reed
Feelings: pain, happiness, sorrow,… Life, flash light. Photo, memories, past, present. sound, wave, grey, soft, smooth, hard, harsh, violent. Lovely, rainy, lonely. Love them all because they’re real. Love them as much as you can, enjoy them, caress them, feelings! Be alive every single second. Smile. Cherish every single moment… and, if you feel like screaming, do it. But you better love what ever you do cause life is, after all, about loving.
16 series so far.
I’ve been spending 5 years, so far, taking street photography, catching people, their beauties. I do it because I know, deep inside, that we all have something to offer. We are beautiful but it seems to me that we’re not aware of it. The media are always showing us “successful” people (or politicians and ex-rapists… which is basically the same). Why should we focus all our attention on people we don’t know when our neighbors, our colleagues, people we sometimes briefly meet in the subway are here.
Every time I find myself in this old bind
watching the death of my hopes.
In the ring so long gonna prove them wrong
I’m not knocked out, but I’m not on the ropes.
I’ve got enough I left inside this tired heart
to win this world and walk on my feet,
know the trip.
I may never get, everything I bet
but I’m a man who always copes
I’m hurting bad, and fight em at
I’m not knocked out, but I’m not on the ropes.
Everything that I hold me didn’t mean,
’cause riding on this moment here and now
I know how.
I’ve got enough I left inside this tired heart
to win this world and walk on my feet,
no defeat.
Gonna feel so good, when it’s understood
but hold the rebirth of my hopes
in the ring so long gotta prove them wrong
I’m not knocked out, but I’m not on the ropes.
Mark Oliver Everett / Eels
I met Paul 4 years ago, he was one of the ones who interviewed me when I applied at Westerdals. From colleague he quickly became my friend. One of the few I can count on. One of the few I do consider… highly and respect deeply. An innovator, a creative, hyper active, hyper realistic and hyper sensitive. A BIG heart in a medium small body (I can’t really say “small” cause he’s taller than me ^^).
Photographs taken with my 5D MKIII, a 50mm , at 10 000 ISO. All photographs are visible here
Martine “Nikki”. A very dear friend, a great girl and a wonderful human being. I’m extremely glad to be able to call her my friend.
* Thierry and Yann talk about photography.
- Thierry: Photo, it’s like motorbikes, noise is the most important.
- Yann: what an idiot…
Mister Igrec is one of the member of our forum (photo). Lately he has started to make some small cartoonish illustrations… I, of course, really enjoy this one :)
Thank you Igrec!
… obsessed by old people?”
My wife did not use the word “obsess” but still, I understood what she was trying to tell me, I might be a little limited but I know my weaknesses when it comes to my photographic choices. The answer is quite simple: only kids and old people are, often, showing a true face.
From 12 till… let’s say 65 people are still pretending.
When you’re a teenager you have the all life in front of you, you’re dreaming to be in your 20s, independent, having a better life than your parents (boring old-farts). In your mid 20s you dream about settling down, being different, being the “serious one” (even if you only dream about parties, sex, drug and rock ‘n’ roll)… depends of course, me for example, well… I always been an old-serious-fart, even when I was 2 years old^^
Anyway, the thing is that as long as we believe that we are still in the game, it’s human, we try to be at our best. We fake it. How many 40+ years old men are trying to hide their stomach? How many “close to be 50″ women are covering their faces with make up and try to dress like their daughters? A LOT! Why? Well, come on! It’s simple, sad and real: still attractive (I’m not talking about sex here. Attractive for today’s business standard, right?) mean that you can still offer something, you are valuable, important. You’re not, yet, out of the game. See my point?
So, to get back to the main subject: why do I love shooting old people… for only one reason: Old people (and kids)… they don’t give a shit. They have a past, they had a life, they don’t pretend anymore. They are more alive than many people we know and that is a fact. They’re telling us: when you stop F***** pretending to be another one you have two possibilities: be yourself and deeply enjoy it or die.
What about being old now? What about following their advice and say: well, I’m myself, I don’t have to pretend to be another one. Here I am, straight,… take it or leave it.
As explained yesterday it’s a simple idea that came from two simple questions: what is photography and what is the Oslo Photo Club? Photography is about light, and the lack of it, mirrors, fractions, elements put together to end being a picture. It’s also about seeing; one subject, two photographers = a different photographs. We see different things and they are never as clear as they’re supposed to. The club, it’s the same: people from different countries, with different backgrounds, sharing the same interest but seeing different things. Simple.
If you think about it, photography and graphic design are quite alike. It’s about being curios. You can study the masters, know the technic by heart… if you’re not curios and don’t experiment you won’t do anything but to repeat, to copy, what has been done before. Just like a Circus dog.
So, when I “got asked” to design a logo for the Oslo Photo Club I had many options. The obvious ones and the not that obvious ones. Tricky, the target group isn’t small, the Club is open to anyone who would like to share her/his passion and the OPC never refuses any new members… So you can easily imagine how different the members can be. Fine, ok. Based on the fact that I had nothing to loose I decided to design a logo that could, hopefully, be seen differently according to the viewers (just like photography). Blades letting the light passing through, sharp angles too, unfinished, moving, messy,… those were the words bumping in my head… and here is the result:
Main logo:
Watermark / promotional poster:
“Client”: Oslo Photo Club / 2012
Logo and profile for the Oslo Photo Club. Photo is a “glimpse”, light and mirrors… Work in progress but soon finished.
My little post about Helvetica and the Beatles was just a start. A tiny little introduction to something, in my opinion, a little more puzzling: politically correct behaviors. It rarely ends. Strangely, even creative people do suffer from it. I’m always fascinated by such behaviors. This post might turn to be a little long… I’m sorry about this.
Back in time I do remember one of my teacher trying to make me like Picasso. Sorry, I don’t like his work, doesn’t talk to me, doesn’t level up my hearth… Anyway, this teacher was always trying, hard, to make me understand my mistake by telling me to “understand the meaning of his work”. What? Basically he was asking me to read a book, or two, in order to understand the hidden messages contained in Picasso’s work. Hmmm,… there is something that does not really connect here. To me it sounds like:
1/ Even if you don’t like something you are supposed to because everybody says so
2/ Your personal tastes are irrelevant
3/ Art is reserved to an “elite”, people with a certain level of education. The other ones should rather consider to watch TV…
Today things aren’t different. A graphic designer, for example, must dislike Comic Sans and like Helvetica (and be able to explain why). A musician should respect, highly, the work of the Beatles and, finally, admit that R. Sakamoto is a great composer (same people hated him in the 80s because he was using synth and computers… today he’s seen as one of the most brilliant classical/experimental composer, funny… ). Why? Well because they’re supposed to do so. They are “educated” and consequently should know what’s good, what’s right. It as nothing to do with their personal tastes but everything to do with what they were taught to like or/and dislike. Today you can’t seriously pretend to be a musician and say: I like Justin Bieber. God man, you gonna be crucified! 20 years ago it was totally forbidden to say “I like Clint Eastwood’s movies”, the so called “intellectuals” were looking at you with tears in they’re eyes: “poor little lost soul, he likes such movies…” . Today the same people write reviews about his latest movies, calling him a genius, a “true” American movie director. Tomorrow they’ll call Bieber a prodigy and everybody will follow their lead.
When it comes to graphic design I often, too often I should say, heard “this is not graphic design” from people who could travel over oceans to listen to Stefan Sagmeister, from people following James Victore on Facebook… The same ones looked down at David Carson when he started his career as a graphic designer… And today they believe that they can say “this is not graphic design” just by looking at something they don’t really understand. They believe that they can define, without blushing, what should be called “graphic design” and what shouldn’t be. The same people strongly recommend others to “think outside the box”… They can’t even do it themselves! Isn’t it a little bit ironic? Why do they do that? Well, I don’t know the answer but in my humble opinion the problem is connected to several things:
a) They are scared to think different
b) They need to “fit”, to please and to be a part of a group
c) They totally lack imagination and need, at all time, to be guided
d) They are insecure creatures
e) They are not curios
f) They don’t want to make waves (real ones)
g) They refuse things they don’t understand
h) They are arrogant
i) They are ignorant
j) They are afraid to be seen as “weak”
… to be continued (I’ll develop all these points one by one as soon as possible)…
Freedom, well, freedom. Not sure what it means. Am I free? Compare to others I am, for sure. But do I need to compare? Why should I try to convince myself by using other people as a unit. I’m free to walk, to buy what I like, to live where I want to, to listen to the music I enjoy… I’m free because I can vote, because I can say: no. Really? Isn’t it a little ironic to see that things we do are simply made to make us believe that we’re free, that we can decide by ourselves. But at the end it’s all fake if you ask me. As long as we’re dependent of a certain system freedom is an utopia. Can I do anything to change this fact? I’m afraid not. Idealistic people would say that the birth of a new society could be the answer, I doubt it. Where ever there is human involve freedom vanishes. Am I sad, should I be sad? Nope, just a little shocked.
What can I say? Last Monday I was walking in the streets of Toulouse, without any goals really. Is it luck or something else that brought me straight to the perfect spot? I don’t know. Thing is that I stopped walking and realized how much some people mean so much to me. Isn’t it fairly logical, to love? I’m not talking about being loved, but simply to love. I have few friends, real friends, and only one brother (who’s not even my real brother strange enough). Why did I stopped precisely in that street? I was just passing by…
Helvetica is a typeface, the Beatles a band… what’s the connection? Well, sorry to say but if you are a musician, or a music lover, you’re not supposed to say: “I don’t like the Beatles”. If you are a graphic designer, or a graphic design lover, you are not supposed to say: “I don’t like Helvetica”. Sorry, doesn’t work for me… I don’t like the Beatles and I really, deep inside, dislike Helvetica! So, should I get shot, tortured by the Spanish inquisition, burned on a public place? No, as a designer, a musician, a man, I should be able to like and dislike whatever I want to like or dislike without being judged by a bunch of, sorry to say, limited-border-line-elitist idiots! Haaaaaaa, that was good! I HATE THE BEATLES AND I HATE (with passion) HELVETICA!!!!!!! ^^
If i lay my head down
I will see you in my dream
Wearing that polka dot dress
And sitting by the stream
Leaning in to hear you
You will whisper in my ear
And everything i need to know
I finally hear
I wish i could remember
But my selective memory
Won’t let me
When i was a baby
We would go out to the park
And sit out in the fountain
Splashing ’round until it’s dark
The days go on forever
When you only know that much
And everything you need to know
Is answered with one touch
I wish i could remember
But my selective memory
Won’t let me
The Eels /
This photograph was taken while I was walking with my friend Saq. We were out “streeting”, enjoying the weather, not doing much actually (if enjoying a nice walk can be seen as not doing much…). I love this area of the town. The smell of spices, people not doing much. Drinking with friends… or alone. Simple moments far from the shiny-fake-west-side of Oslo. An area where people can still be themselves without being afraid of getting judged. Peaceful if you ask me.
Canon 5D MKIII / 100mm (fix) / 800 ISO / F2.3
We are alone together. Eating a burger, beautiful pictures of laughing people on the walls, our societies is making us believe that we are happy-little-kitens, what’s the point?… It’s all fake. Ask your neighbors, your friends, your parents. And then look around, open your eyes. Humans are lonely. Pretending. It’s reality. And the reality is cold. We, all of us, can change it. We just have to work on it… And accept the fact that a society based on the principle that the pleasure of one individual, and only one, is the “key” to success and happiness is a society that is not taking care of its people. We can get, more or less, everything. Power, money, a place to live in, a car… but, is that enough? Personally I don’t think so. Sharing, smiling, loving, taking care of, be, for once, human. Share your Dreams!
Canon 5D MKIII / 50mm (fix) / 6400 ISO / F2.2
Not my first time I’m afraid. Catching people in their loneliness even if together. Thoughtful, tired, lost in our own minds, we just forget to look around. Streets, underground public transportations, trains… are great places to grab these little moments. We are in a transitory stage; not home yet, not at work, nowhere in a way, doing nothing but passing by. Sometimes I do wonder why I’m so into street photography, well simply because of these “passing by(s)”, these “transitory stages”, when people are themselves, not posing, not doing anything but traveling from a point to another. Thinking about the day that just passed, thinking about tomorrow, thinking about…, everything and nothing.
Canon 5D MKIII / 100mm (fix)/ F2 / 8000 ISO
keep looking »