November 27, 2013 § 2 Comments
Three weekends ago, in Paris, I discovered a new photographer entirely by accident. (As one does.) I had gone to the Maison Européenne de la Photographie to see Sebastião Salgado’s exhibition Genesis (which, by the way, is very much worth a visit if you happen to be in Paris before 5 January). On the way out, during the obligatory browse through the bookshop, a rack of postcards caught my eye.
They were Polaroids, soft and grainy, their palette reduced to the primaries. They were mostly cityscapes, yet devoid of people, a human presence sometimes suggested by a statue, a wind-whipped flag. Most of them were suffused with brilliant sunlight yet the overwhelming air these delicate square slices of reality exuded was of melancholy and nostalgia. I recognised a kindred spirit – not only because the imagery had a deep and instant appeal, but also because it was so close to what I’ve been trying to do with my own photography… except, obviously, much better.
I turned over one of the postcards and learned that the photographer is Marion Dubier-Clark. I’ve since found out (mostly from her gorgeous website) that she’s based in Paris but has travelled the world – indeed, most of her published photographs were taken on several trips across the States.
Some of Dubier-Clark’s most striking photos were shot on a road trip between San Francisco and Los Angeles. Looking at them made me regret that my own interest in photography had lain dormant during the two and a half years I lived in California, and certainly inspired me to pack my Diana, a roll of slide film and my wide-angle lens last week when I was getting ready to head across the pond for Thanksgiving.
As to the results, stay tuned…