Anthropocene is the name of the current geological epoch. The word means that the human being has become a force capable of overcoming natural factors, that govern the balance of terrestrial ecosystems. We speak of anthropogenic force, i.e. force “due to human activity”. Much attention is currently focused on potentially destructive climate changes. There are, in fact, seven other planetary limits, damaged by human activity, which can destroy life on Earth. However, two of them are crucial, as they can single-handedly turn the whole system on its head: climate and biodiversity. It is increasingly recognized that man is not at the pinnacle of “creation”. Still, it represents one element of nature among others, with which he must maintain a respectful balance, or risk disappearing with it.
Societies other than the so-called Western world have long understood this. We need to build a society together, between human beings and with all living beings.
We need to question our relationship with the animal world and understand:
– the fragility of species, some of which seem invincible due to their stature or physical capabilities,
– that this is happening even on a non-Western continent where abundant wildlife was taken for granted,
– that their future and ours are linked, because we share the same territory, planet Earth.
Anthropic/Antropic. What strange words! The second doesn’t exist yet, I’ve just created it. Clearly, the deletion of the “h” plays a role. I’ll come back to this later.
I took photos of wild animals, simple portraits, to show their vulnerability.
Photographers like Nick Brandt have done some grand, beautiful, often majestic ones in black and white. In a style reminiscent of the old portraits of yesteryear, Brandt has set this “sculptural” beauty against the fragility of a population that is destined to disappear.
I wanted to do my bit. Like Brandt, I thought of intervening in the aesthetics of the images and considered using a rather old model of a telephoto lens, known as catadioptric. But the images produced dissuaded me, due to their lack of quality. I then had the idea of working more on the interpretation of the photograph and its medium to illustrate my point.
I allowed myself to take almost “ordinary” photos, avoiding wild scenes and grandiose landscapes, simply capturing glances and attitudes. As I browsed through books and websites, one color kept popping up repeatedly: reddish-brown, ochre, the glowing brown of the savannah into which certain animal coats blend, that famous color of African mahogany wood… It was decided: the shoot itself would be complemented by a staging in the form of a color metaphor, a historical reference to painting and drawing.
The color of Africa is the color of Sanguine, the style of drawing to which many great painters such as Da Vinci, Rembrandt, Ingres, Fragonard, Poussin, and others devoted themselves. Sanguine appeared during the Renaissance, reached its peak in the 18th century, and then declined sharply. It’s impossible not to draw a parallel with the evolution of the wild animal population. From then on, Sanguine had a dual interest: its color and its evolution.
But transforming a photograph into Sanguine, while remaining visually a photograph, without turning it into a drawing or falling into a post-production caricature, is a complicated and very delicate undertaking. I hope I succeeded…
At the same time, I’ve limited the landscape to its simplest expression, not just to showcase the animals, but above all as a symbol of a fragile nature that is gradually degrading, and I’ve adopted a square format, which didn’t exist in the Renaissance or 18th century, to anchor the images in the present day.
I’d like to add that among the photographs is one, without specifying which, that I produced by synthesis. At the rate the great extinction is going, this may be all we have left when this population completely disappears in just a few years. Slipping it in among the others shows just how fragile today’s reality is. To accentuate this feeling of fragility, I print my photographs on a special Japanese paper from Awagami. Washi is made from double-layered paper mulberry (Kozo), the two layers of which are separated after printing. Top-of-the-range photo paper usually weighs around 300g/m2. Here, the double-layer paper initially weighs only 96g/m2, and the final weight of the printed layer is 30g/m2. This means it is very thin and light can pass through it.
While “anthropic” refers to the influence of man on nature, “antropic” is intended to emphasize the influence of nature (in this case tropical) on man in a desire for balance, even in the word itself. The human “h” has been replaced by nature. Nature reclaims its rights.
