Gérard Rancinan: The Photographers
After recently portraying 1,000 Chinese athletes for his work entitled China, the challenge, Rancinan has tackled an ambitious project, taking him around world, to address what he considers a central issue: what responsibility do we have, do we take, in the act of taking a photograph. To do so, he met friends, artists and colleagues, confronting them all with this issue, while also taking their portraits...
Sarah Baxter / Eyemazing
Dec 01, 2008
G茅rard Rancinan, a prolific artist who expresses himself in various modes of photography (photojournalism, advertising, portraits), and whose celebrated works were shown in a large-scale show at the Triennale de Milano in 2007, is a very enthusiastic person who likes nothing more than to transport you into his vision of the universe.
Born in the southwest of France, where he first trained in a photo lab, he quickly moved to Paris to work for the Sygma photo agency. He since created his own studio, where he works when he鈥檚 not hopping around the planet.
After recently portraying 1,000 Chinese athletes for his work entitled China, the challenge, Rancinan has tackled an ambitious project, taking him around world, to address what he considers a central issue: what responsibility do we have, do we take, in the act of taking a photograph. To do so, he met friends, artists and colleagues, confronting them all with this issue, while also taking their portraits. Over twenty personalities were surveyed, including David LaChapelle, Mary Ellen Mark, Albert Watson, Ron Galella, Roman Opalka, Rankin, and Pierre & Gilles kissing in his studio. This project, entitled quite simply The Photographer, can be seen in a special presentation this fall at the Palais de Tokyo in Paris and is also becoming a book. Eyemazing had a very enjoyable encounter with the artist in his studio near Paris, where he talked passionately about his likes鈥� and dislikes.
Sarah Baxter: You started your career as a photo颅journalist?
G茅rard Rancinan: I never considered myself more of a photojournalist, than a photographer or an artist. I move freely in all the means of expression photo颅graphy has to offer. Photography has been my language for some time now, and I feel I can say many different things with it.
SB: But are you considered more of an artist today?
GR: If people consider my work to be artistic, combining as it does photojournalism and art, that鈥檚 fine by me. All I am is a photographer witnessing the times we live in, capturing the changes in our society and our humanity. I take time to observe and occasionally, with small yet vivid details, I manage to render my personal vision of the society we live in. As seen through the filter of my mind, of my thoughts, often inspired by contemporary artists such as Paul McCarthy, Damien Hirst and many others. Beyond them, people absolutely essential in my mind are artists such as Velasquez or Bacon.
Velasquez was a fabulous portraitist, almost a journalist. He left a powerful trace of his contemporaries, rummaging the soul of his time. His portraits aren鈥檛 mere paintings: if you peer into the eyes of the men he painted, you鈥檒l find their spirits are still very much alive, it鈥檚 quite disturbing! Caravaggio and Michelangelo were also witnesses of the complexities of their time. Each artist reveals the era he lives in. Warhol revealed his, so did Basquiat, not to mention Picasso鈥� When you look at Guernica, it鈥檚 not a painting you have before you; you hear the screams of innocent men, women and children being bombed. You can only cry in revolt.
That鈥檚 why contemporary art that is not generous, that doesn鈥檛 share anything because of a deliberately blurred message, bores me no end. All these artists that only look at themselves, and ask the world to see how clever they are鈥� That鈥檚 just pitiful. Art doesn鈥檛 need to be complex or incompre颅hensible! When Lucio Fontana slices a hole in a painting to see beyond it, it鈥檚 simple, strong and yes, magical. The void is so full, it鈥檚 destabilising! For Fontana, the painting is no longer a mounted canvas, but an illusion. And who has never wanted to enter a photograph? To go wander through it, go beyond its borders? When I take pictures of photo颅graphers for The Photographer project, it鈥檚 me I see through them, and them through me. I yearn for what can be shared, and for the illusion that copies reality.
SB: The Photographer appears to be a personal quest
GR: I鈥檝e always been fascinated by the pertinence and consequences of photography; by the actual act of photography which freezes time, thereby competing with God; by this magic trick that has the power to fix objects and people in time. Caroline Gaudriault, a talented journalist, and myself then decided to go visit photographs around the world, a quest made possible by watchmaker Baume & Mercier that gave us 鈥渃arte blanche鈥�
It was a very unusual project, which involved many risks. During the process of making it and facing photographers, I would often see myself in a mirror, which was quite disturbing.
Most of the photographers were friends, some more famous than others, all working in very different styles and different professional areas. All of them having spent a good portion of their lives dedicated to photography, I asked each one what degree of responsibility they felt in the act of taking a photograph.
SB: What responsibility are you talking about? They cannot be the same between a photojournalist and a fashion or advertising photographer?
GR: Of course it is! Be they great or lesser photographers, amateurs or professionals, capturing the smile of a loved one or covering the war in Iraq the way the great James Nachtwey does, everyone taking a photograph has a responsibility! Stopping time, freezing a moment of humanity is not a frivolous act. The subject captured with the camera is no longer the same; in reality, it鈥檚 moved on, while the photograph remains, possibly forever鈥� That鈥檚 the magic of photography. 鈥淐reating little deaths, embalming the moment,鈥� as Roland Barthes put it. And that鈥檚 what I mean by photographic responsibility. Being a witness of one鈥檚 time, of a single moment, ultimately creating a 鈥渓iving past鈥�. Lartigue tells us as much about his time as Capa does.
For The Photographer, Caroline and I travelled from Japan to Brazil, from New York to Los Angeles, from Hawaii to Iceland to Bamako鈥� Most of the photographers I contacted accepted our invitation to participate. Some didn鈥檛 understand the question. Others understood only it too well, like James Nachtwey, who got angry! He asked me how I could possibly ask him such a question when we covered the war in Lebanon together and have known each other for 35 years. I told him that I came to get that sort of response, at which point he agreed wholeheartedly.
Connecting with all these photographers was a real journey. We spent a lot of time together, and there was a lot of warmth, intelligence and human bonding. Caroline would be asking questions, and in the midst of them all, she would ask THE question. It didn鈥檛 come out of the blue.
Meanwhile, the photo portraits I made were the complete opposite. I had no preset idea of what I was going to do. I wanted the shoot to be intuitive, organic, without effects. To simply 鈥渟ee鈥� the person before me, nothing else. There are some exceptions, such as the portraits of David LaChapelle or Pierre & Gilles that include a form of narrative. But mostly, each person is simply there before me, and I capture their gaze, such as in Peter Lindbergh鈥檚 portrait.
SB: How did you go about selecting the works that are ultimately in the book The Photographer?
GR: In the book, there are 23 photographs from very different circles. Without this project, there was no natural reason to see them together. You have photojournalists, war photographers, a celebrity photographer, a fashion photographer; even a paparazzi, Ron Galella, who shot Jackie Kennedy in her time. Or the wonderful Roman Opalka, who photographs time by shooting a self portrait every single day, dressed with the same shirt, with the same chain around his neck, using the same light source, the same camera, and shooting the same frame鈥� for over 40 years now. He represents every photographer鈥檚 dream: the photographer of one single photograph. His work evolves from an initial black, to a gradual increase of light, towards complete white. His photography is part of a grander work that he calls OPALKA 1965/1-oo (鈥渙ne to infinity鈥�). Roman is surely Michelangelo鈥檚 reincarnation! SB: So you鈥檝e created a collective work?
GR: It鈥檚 a global work, far from a catalogue of each photographer鈥檚 best photos, which would have been simplistic. There are texts on one side, and photos on the other. I鈥檓 not sure how related they are to each other, but there was a great deal of complicity between Caroline and I in the selection process.
We did include works by the photographers themselves, such as Elliot Erwitt鈥檚. Many people are familiar with his pictures of dogs, but know very little of him. So we wanted to show little spurts of the artists鈥� works. Salgado鈥檚 picture in the book, for instance, is less familiar than the one by James Nachtwey. And I wanted to experience all these meetings. At my age, and after an extensive journey on this earth and with my experience in the world of photography, I am amazed to discover that most photographers don鈥檛 know each other personally. To think that great masters such as Velasquez would travel two years to Rome or elsewhere in Italy to meet other painters, to learn, to share, to find inspiration, to give, to stimulate competition. Today, everyone is alone in his corner. We watch TV and the world stops turning鈥� Not for me. I loved spending a week with David LaChapelle in Hawaii. I loved it when Pierre & Gilles kissed in my studio. I loved sharing these moments. I loved being cold in Iceland with Ragnar, and walking arm-in-arm with Mary Ellen Mark in what鈥檚 left of Coney Island. I loved sitting on the sidewalk in Bamako with Malick Sidib茅. Spending two days with him was a tremendous burst of humanity. We are all trees in the forest!
SB: You find your inspiration in the works of painters, as well works from other photographers鈥�
GR: In my photography work, the link is obvious. Who can claim never to have been inspired by the works of others? To me, The Photographer is a way to perpetuate tradition. Meeting one鈥檚 peers, friends and colleagues, to learn, to see, to share鈥� Whether sharing laughs with Malick Sidib茅 in Bamako, or chapped lips with Ragnar in Iceland, this project was an opportunity for me to meet all these great artists, to pay tribute to them and to thank them for giving me so much.
SB: Tell me about your future projects.
GR: I am working on the great changes our society has gone through, trying to find a link between past, present and future. To this end, I鈥檝e been taking photographs inspired by paintings of great masters, works that are universally known.
The first is a reinterpretation of G茅ricault鈥檚 Raft of the Medusa, which I turned into The Raft of Illusion, and comment on issues of immigration.
The second is the Garden of Delirium, inspired by a Wagner opera, which is commissioned by the Th茅芒tre du Ch芒telet in Paris, and (starting the fall of 2008) will serve as the stage backdrop prior to performances. The image talks about man鈥檚 obsession in creating a 鈥渢otal masterpiece鈥�, in other words the destruction of all humanity in a matter of seconds with the atom bomb. Man鈥檚 first 鈥� and all too successful 鈥� attempts being Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
The third is entitled Freedom Revealed, inspired by Delacroix鈥檚 painting Freedom guiding the people. This one talks about all manners in which freedom and freedom of expression can be repressed.
Junk food is the theme of the next work, illustrated this time by a reinterpretation of the Last Supper. Another theme is about the non-aging of our modern society that refuses to grow old, to change, to transform. Doctors have replaced God since they can potentially provide us with a fragile form of eternity.
Finally, the last work will be of Adam and Eve, and their journey to a new paradise. This one will be like an altarpiece: Birth and Death will frame Adam and Eve in their 鈥淭hird Paradise鈥�, a central idea in the work of the great Arte Povera artist Pistoletto. This grand work will be offered to a church I鈥檓 very fond of. I try, to the best I can, perhaps naively, but always sincerely, to be as classical as possible. To get closer to the artists who show me the light with their genius. There will be an exhibition that will travel to 10 cities around the world, where all the photographs will be shown together, in large-scale formats. Inspired as they are from world-renowned artworks, theses images will speak to everyone (whether Japanese, American or Chinese). They will also surely become a book, but not before 2009. It鈥檚 a big project that seems to strike a chord everywhere because these photographs are comments I make about our time and our modern society.
SB: You were awarded many prestigious prizes, and refused some of them鈥�
GR: True. I received five World Press Photo awards (two First Prizes, and the others, I don鈥檛 recall) and many other awards. Each time was dizzying for me, and I started getting depressed. So I rebelled against it, thinking all this is ridiculous, pretentious and useless. To tell you the truth, I was even fired at one point鈥� But who are those people who give out prizes? And who can judge of other people鈥檚 work?
Celebrity can be dangerous. I was honoured with the French 鈥淐hevalier des Arts et des Lettres鈥�, but I never went to get it! The greatest reward, for me, comes from a simple onlooker who, not knowing who you are, looks at one of your photographs, and touches it as if it were as smooth as skin.
SB: How does the book The Photographer relate to the show at the Palais de Tokyo?
GR: The exhibition is not like the book, which is all neat and orderly (aside from Caroline Gaudriault鈥檚 beautiful texts, I did everything in the book, including the layout). At the Palais de Tokyo, what I wanted was to stage an imaginary path within a giant book in the process of being made. As if you were entering a feverish printing factory 鈥� my dream is to have my own printing press and to be able to do everything myself 鈥� where gigantic pages (1.80 x 1.60 metres) are numbered and hanging on cables to dry, lit by neons鈥� You can see ink dripping! Texts are badly written, scratched over, either typed or manuscript. It鈥檚 a stroll inside a giant book, a maze, with Polaroids and a large, dark room at the back, where several large slides of mine (20 x 25 inch) are also hanging on cables, appearing and disappearing with the light鈥� And you鈥檒l come out of there completely knocked out by this experience and rush to buy the book! [laughs.] The photographs in the show will remain unfinished and are thus treated differently than in the book. As opposed to other series of mine, The Photographer was made with traditional film, a Hasselblad and no assistant. It鈥檚 an impassioned tribute to photographs I admire, that鈥檚 what it is!
Born in the southwest of France, where he first trained in a photo lab, he quickly moved to Paris to work for the Sygma photo agency. He since created his own studio, where he works when he鈥檚 not hopping around the planet.
After recently portraying 1,000 Chinese athletes for his work entitled China, the challenge, Rancinan has tackled an ambitious project, taking him around world, to address what he considers a central issue: what responsibility do we have, do we take, in the act of taking a photograph. To do so, he met friends, artists and colleagues, confronting them all with this issue, while also taking their portraits. Over twenty personalities were surveyed, including David LaChapelle, Mary Ellen Mark, Albert Watson, Ron Galella, Roman Opalka, Rankin, and Pierre & Gilles kissing in his studio. This project, entitled quite simply The Photographer, can be seen in a special presentation this fall at the Palais de Tokyo in Paris and is also becoming a book. Eyemazing had a very enjoyable encounter with the artist in his studio near Paris, where he talked passionately about his likes鈥� and dislikes.
Sarah Baxter: You started your career as a photo颅journalist?
G茅rard Rancinan: I never considered myself more of a photojournalist, than a photographer or an artist. I move freely in all the means of expression photo颅graphy has to offer. Photography has been my language for some time now, and I feel I can say many different things with it.
SB: But are you considered more of an artist today?
GR: If people consider my work to be artistic, combining as it does photojournalism and art, that鈥檚 fine by me. All I am is a photographer witnessing the times we live in, capturing the changes in our society and our humanity. I take time to observe and occasionally, with small yet vivid details, I manage to render my personal vision of the society we live in. As seen through the filter of my mind, of my thoughts, often inspired by contemporary artists such as Paul McCarthy, Damien Hirst and many others. Beyond them, people absolutely essential in my mind are artists such as Velasquez or Bacon.
Velasquez was a fabulous portraitist, almost a journalist. He left a powerful trace of his contemporaries, rummaging the soul of his time. His portraits aren鈥檛 mere paintings: if you peer into the eyes of the men he painted, you鈥檒l find their spirits are still very much alive, it鈥檚 quite disturbing! Caravaggio and Michelangelo were also witnesses of the complexities of their time. Each artist reveals the era he lives in. Warhol revealed his, so did Basquiat, not to mention Picasso鈥� When you look at Guernica, it鈥檚 not a painting you have before you; you hear the screams of innocent men, women and children being bombed. You can only cry in revolt.
That鈥檚 why contemporary art that is not generous, that doesn鈥檛 share anything because of a deliberately blurred message, bores me no end. All these artists that only look at themselves, and ask the world to see how clever they are鈥� That鈥檚 just pitiful. Art doesn鈥檛 need to be complex or incompre颅hensible! When Lucio Fontana slices a hole in a painting to see beyond it, it鈥檚 simple, strong and yes, magical. The void is so full, it鈥檚 destabilising! For Fontana, the painting is no longer a mounted canvas, but an illusion. And who has never wanted to enter a photograph? To go wander through it, go beyond its borders? When I take pictures of photo颅graphers for The Photographer project, it鈥檚 me I see through them, and them through me. I yearn for what can be shared, and for the illusion that copies reality.
SB: The Photographer appears to be a personal quest
GR: I鈥檝e always been fascinated by the pertinence and consequences of photography; by the actual act of photography which freezes time, thereby competing with God; by this magic trick that has the power to fix objects and people in time. Caroline Gaudriault, a talented journalist, and myself then decided to go visit photographs around the world, a quest made possible by watchmaker Baume & Mercier that gave us 鈥渃arte blanche鈥�
It was a very unusual project, which involved many risks. During the process of making it and facing photographers, I would often see myself in a mirror, which was quite disturbing.
Most of the photographers were friends, some more famous than others, all working in very different styles and different professional areas. All of them having spent a good portion of their lives dedicated to photography, I asked each one what degree of responsibility they felt in the act of taking a photograph.
SB: What responsibility are you talking about? They cannot be the same between a photojournalist and a fashion or advertising photographer?
GR: Of course it is! Be they great or lesser photographers, amateurs or professionals, capturing the smile of a loved one or covering the war in Iraq the way the great James Nachtwey does, everyone taking a photograph has a responsibility! Stopping time, freezing a moment of humanity is not a frivolous act. The subject captured with the camera is no longer the same; in reality, it鈥檚 moved on, while the photograph remains, possibly forever鈥� That鈥檚 the magic of photography. 鈥淐reating little deaths, embalming the moment,鈥� as Roland Barthes put it. And that鈥檚 what I mean by photographic responsibility. Being a witness of one鈥檚 time, of a single moment, ultimately creating a 鈥渓iving past鈥�. Lartigue tells us as much about his time as Capa does.
For The Photographer, Caroline and I travelled from Japan to Brazil, from New York to Los Angeles, from Hawaii to Iceland to Bamako鈥� Most of the photographers I contacted accepted our invitation to participate. Some didn鈥檛 understand the question. Others understood only it too well, like James Nachtwey, who got angry! He asked me how I could possibly ask him such a question when we covered the war in Lebanon together and have known each other for 35 years. I told him that I came to get that sort of response, at which point he agreed wholeheartedly.
Connecting with all these photographers was a real journey. We spent a lot of time together, and there was a lot of warmth, intelligence and human bonding. Caroline would be asking questions, and in the midst of them all, she would ask THE question. It didn鈥檛 come out of the blue.
Meanwhile, the photo portraits I made were the complete opposite. I had no preset idea of what I was going to do. I wanted the shoot to be intuitive, organic, without effects. To simply 鈥渟ee鈥� the person before me, nothing else. There are some exceptions, such as the portraits of David LaChapelle or Pierre & Gilles that include a form of narrative. But mostly, each person is simply there before me, and I capture their gaze, such as in Peter Lindbergh鈥檚 portrait.
SB: How did you go about selecting the works that are ultimately in the book The Photographer?
GR: In the book, there are 23 photographs from very different circles. Without this project, there was no natural reason to see them together. You have photojournalists, war photographers, a celebrity photographer, a fashion photographer; even a paparazzi, Ron Galella, who shot Jackie Kennedy in her time. Or the wonderful Roman Opalka, who photographs time by shooting a self portrait every single day, dressed with the same shirt, with the same chain around his neck, using the same light source, the same camera, and shooting the same frame鈥� for over 40 years now. He represents every photographer鈥檚 dream: the photographer of one single photograph. His work evolves from an initial black, to a gradual increase of light, towards complete white. His photography is part of a grander work that he calls OPALKA 1965/1-oo (鈥渙ne to infinity鈥�). Roman is surely Michelangelo鈥檚 reincarnation! SB: So you鈥檝e created a collective work?
GR: It鈥檚 a global work, far from a catalogue of each photographer鈥檚 best photos, which would have been simplistic. There are texts on one side, and photos on the other. I鈥檓 not sure how related they are to each other, but there was a great deal of complicity between Caroline and I in the selection process.
We did include works by the photographers themselves, such as Elliot Erwitt鈥檚. Many people are familiar with his pictures of dogs, but know very little of him. So we wanted to show little spurts of the artists鈥� works. Salgado鈥檚 picture in the book, for instance, is less familiar than the one by James Nachtwey. And I wanted to experience all these meetings. At my age, and after an extensive journey on this earth and with my experience in the world of photography, I am amazed to discover that most photographers don鈥檛 know each other personally. To think that great masters such as Velasquez would travel two years to Rome or elsewhere in Italy to meet other painters, to learn, to share, to find inspiration, to give, to stimulate competition. Today, everyone is alone in his corner. We watch TV and the world stops turning鈥� Not for me. I loved spending a week with David LaChapelle in Hawaii. I loved it when Pierre & Gilles kissed in my studio. I loved sharing these moments. I loved being cold in Iceland with Ragnar, and walking arm-in-arm with Mary Ellen Mark in what鈥檚 left of Coney Island. I loved sitting on the sidewalk in Bamako with Malick Sidib茅. Spending two days with him was a tremendous burst of humanity. We are all trees in the forest!
SB: You find your inspiration in the works of painters, as well works from other photographers鈥�
GR: In my photography work, the link is obvious. Who can claim never to have been inspired by the works of others? To me, The Photographer is a way to perpetuate tradition. Meeting one鈥檚 peers, friends and colleagues, to learn, to see, to share鈥� Whether sharing laughs with Malick Sidib茅 in Bamako, or chapped lips with Ragnar in Iceland, this project was an opportunity for me to meet all these great artists, to pay tribute to them and to thank them for giving me so much.
SB: Tell me about your future projects.
GR: I am working on the great changes our society has gone through, trying to find a link between past, present and future. To this end, I鈥檝e been taking photographs inspired by paintings of great masters, works that are universally known.
The first is a reinterpretation of G茅ricault鈥檚 Raft of the Medusa, which I turned into The Raft of Illusion, and comment on issues of immigration.
The second is the Garden of Delirium, inspired by a Wagner opera, which is commissioned by the Th茅芒tre du Ch芒telet in Paris, and (starting the fall of 2008) will serve as the stage backdrop prior to performances. The image talks about man鈥檚 obsession in creating a 鈥渢otal masterpiece鈥�, in other words the destruction of all humanity in a matter of seconds with the atom bomb. Man鈥檚 first 鈥� and all too successful 鈥� attempts being Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
The third is entitled Freedom Revealed, inspired by Delacroix鈥檚 painting Freedom guiding the people. This one talks about all manners in which freedom and freedom of expression can be repressed.
Junk food is the theme of the next work, illustrated this time by a reinterpretation of the Last Supper. Another theme is about the non-aging of our modern society that refuses to grow old, to change, to transform. Doctors have replaced God since they can potentially provide us with a fragile form of eternity.
Finally, the last work will be of Adam and Eve, and their journey to a new paradise. This one will be like an altarpiece: Birth and Death will frame Adam and Eve in their 鈥淭hird Paradise鈥�, a central idea in the work of the great Arte Povera artist Pistoletto. This grand work will be offered to a church I鈥檓 very fond of. I try, to the best I can, perhaps naively, but always sincerely, to be as classical as possible. To get closer to the artists who show me the light with their genius. There will be an exhibition that will travel to 10 cities around the world, where all the photographs will be shown together, in large-scale formats. Inspired as they are from world-renowned artworks, theses images will speak to everyone (whether Japanese, American or Chinese). They will also surely become a book, but not before 2009. It鈥檚 a big project that seems to strike a chord everywhere because these photographs are comments I make about our time and our modern society.
SB: You were awarded many prestigious prizes, and refused some of them鈥�
GR: True. I received five World Press Photo awards (two First Prizes, and the others, I don鈥檛 recall) and many other awards. Each time was dizzying for me, and I started getting depressed. So I rebelled against it, thinking all this is ridiculous, pretentious and useless. To tell you the truth, I was even fired at one point鈥� But who are those people who give out prizes? And who can judge of other people鈥檚 work?
Celebrity can be dangerous. I was honoured with the French 鈥淐hevalier des Arts et des Lettres鈥�, but I never went to get it! The greatest reward, for me, comes from a simple onlooker who, not knowing who you are, looks at one of your photographs, and touches it as if it were as smooth as skin.
SB: How does the book The Photographer relate to the show at the Palais de Tokyo?
GR: The exhibition is not like the book, which is all neat and orderly (aside from Caroline Gaudriault鈥檚 beautiful texts, I did everything in the book, including the layout). At the Palais de Tokyo, what I wanted was to stage an imaginary path within a giant book in the process of being made. As if you were entering a feverish printing factory 鈥� my dream is to have my own printing press and to be able to do everything myself 鈥� where gigantic pages (1.80 x 1.60 metres) are numbered and hanging on cables to dry, lit by neons鈥� You can see ink dripping! Texts are badly written, scratched over, either typed or manuscript. It鈥檚 a stroll inside a giant book, a maze, with Polaroids and a large, dark room at the back, where several large slides of mine (20 x 25 inch) are also hanging on cables, appearing and disappearing with the light鈥� And you鈥檒l come out of there completely knocked out by this experience and rush to buy the book! [laughs.] The photographs in the show will remain unfinished and are thus treated differently than in the book. As opposed to other series of mine, The Photographer was made with traditional film, a Hasselblad and no assistant. It鈥檚 an impassioned tribute to photographs I admire, that鈥檚 what it is!
