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DENIS MALARTRE

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ABOUT THE OBJECTALES (I)

1986

 

 

 

 

 

 

Denis Malartre, NYC - 1986

Exasperation gave birth to these photographs.

First of all, they take a stand against reality, the street (which is my photographic past and the shared history of almost the entire photographic world). They are not furtive, nor accidental, nor automatic (they do not come from surrealism). They come out of a desire to close the window. First and foremost, they are photographs. They do not claim to be narrative or autobiographical. They tell the story of the components, you could almost say the internal organs, of an image.

 

They are created in the classic space of the dark room, but in a space as simple as possible, reduced to its most basic form (one object in front of another; one object, one background). They speak to the illusionism of space. They meet the flat surface of the paper.

 

They are created in an average light with little contrast; sometimes they are just shades of grey. The surface is of a moderate (yet visible) grain showing a few different values that do not describe any material (except photographic material). Shadow is also kept to a minimum, without ever being too dark, without creating too much depth.

 

They are created around an object that is both surface and sign, a line, a strip of indefinite width, sometimes multiplied (by three) and set in the (approximate) center of the image. Finally, they are shot with a reduced depth of field (full aperture or almost) so that the object is described in a minimal manner. Limited focus, thus limited description.

 

I choose to closely examine the photographic image (its process of fabrication) to more precisely show images and not realities, objects (like art objects) that take on the dimension of a picture as an object (not a painting).

 

However, sometimes sensuality, and a certain romanticism take over the image. Which contradicts this pared-down desire. Maybe it’s impossible to do otherwise? I continue. I continue to find images in corners. It seems absurd. I find it beautiful.

 

Denis Malartre

“Concerning photos from the month of November”

December 6, 1986

Translation: Margie Rynn

 

 

 

 

 

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