Apologies for the length of this post. It’s time to wrap it up the Arles experience, but there are still a few things to squeeze into the scrapbook. So my last two posts from the festival will squeeze in a lot, starting today with an eclectic mix of words, photographs, video and audio.
The fifth Arles
I’d written previously that there are four photography festivals in Arles. There is a fifth: the spontaneous street exhibitions that you find pasted up on alleyway walls and in shop windows. Some of them even have official openings with wine and everything. Fabulous. Here are a couple of examples:
Shop window photography exhibition
A single photograph exhibit in Arles this year, pasted on to a wall in the street
La Nuit de l’Anee
The big projection evening of the festival was held in the Roman arena this year. Previously, it had been done down at the disused engineering sheds. On paper, this was a great idea. Unfortunately, the realities of so many people moving about in the ancient arena, particularly through its corridors to view the projections, made for a poor photography experience. Stadia are designed to get lots of people in to and out of their seats, not for letting them wander around at will. Bottlenecks formed at access points, while the projections themselves were in small alcoves that only gave two dozen people or so at a time a proper viewing experience.
Still, a lot of people enjoyed the party.
Arles has taught me a lot. It’ll take a while to digest it all, but what has become clear is that it has broadened my photographic outlook considerably. This became apparent when I spent time shooting with Clive Evans yesterday morning. Rather than a leisurely breakfast and a Sunday bimble to Marseille airport, we left Arles at 6am in search of photographs.
We were surprised what a week in Arles had done to us. The road we had driven in on, which had been so dull and unappetizing seven days before, was suddenly rich in potential. Specifically for big, storytelling, large-format photographs. Documentary vistas, if you will.
By nine, the light had gone and we needed coffee. Over breakfast in Port Saint Louis, I recorded a three-part conversation with Clive about our experience of Arles this year.
A week ago, there would have been little or no story in this scene for me. No people for a start. Now, I can see rich potential.
Clive reloading his dark slides by the side of the road using a portable light tent.
Clive’s Speed Graphic with a brass optic from the 1800s and home-made lens board. Look carefully at the bridge reflected in the front element. Van Gogh fanciers and art lovers will know what they are looking at.
Clive photographing a classic Citroen parked outside a cafe. Rare as hens’ teeth apparently. This type of Citroen, you understand. French cafes are a dime a dozen in France.
thank’s for this “découverte”….