Original unsigned gelatin silver print, like most of Trivier's works.
Precious original gelatin silver print by the famous Belgian photographer, one of the most secretive contemporary artists, who despite early international success, preferred to limit his production to preserve the coherence of his work. Marc Trivier does not print new copies of his old portraits, and the printing paper he used is no longer commercially available. The artist "prints his own work on Ilford baryta paper, dedicating several days of work to each print, with particular concentration on rendering the whites, in contrast with blacks of rare density. A Marc Trivier print resembles no other. When he agrees to exhibit them, he hangs them in stainless steel frames of his own making, giving free rein to the life of the paper." (Xavier-Gilles, "Marc Trivier et la tragédie de la lumière" ["Marc Trivier and the tragedy of light"] in Le Monde Libertaire, 2011). This "life of the paper" participates in the work in the same way as the various alterations that photographs undergo when exposed: "In boxes, the prints warp, but no matter: the photographer is fond of this kind of accident." (Claire Guillot, "Les face à face sans échappatoire du photographe Marc Trivier" ["The inescapable face-to-face encounters of photographer Marc Trivier"], Le Monde, 2011). Marc Trivier has a particular sensitivity for the material aspect of his productions. While photography is essentially about multiples, this intervention by the artist throughout the creative process confers an autographic aura to these prints.
Photographs of artists, madmen, trees or slaughterhouses, Marc Trivier approaches all these subjects with a gaze as precise as it is intense.
"Dans sa cosmogonie, chaque chose, chaque être, végétal, animal ou humain, mérite le même respect. Car tous sont confrontés à la même loi d'airain : la solitude." ["In his cosmogony, each thing, each being, plant, animal or human, deserves the same respect. For all are confronted with the same iron law: solitude."] (Luc Desbenoit).
The beauty that emanates from his photos comes from this nakedness. There are no retouches, no reframings. We find in his work the same square format underlined by the square of the negative that Trivier leaves on his prints. This frame traps our gaze in photographs where the makeup of color is rejected for an incisive black and white. With all artificiality having disappeared, we do not face the staging of a subject but a presence exacerbated by the radiating and singular light, witness to a moment of life and not of pose. It is this light, linked to the photographic medium, that unites Marc Trivier's series:
"Les photographies de Marc Trivier écrivent une tragédie de la lumière, celle-ci n'accueillant les êtres - hommes, arbres ou bêtes - qu'en les brûlant, avant disparition." ["Marc Trivier's photographs write a tragedy of light, which welcomes beings - men, trees or beasts - only by burning them, before disappearance."] (Xavier-Gilles in Le Monde Libertaire).
It is also this light, freed from all artifices, that gives his works the aura that makes them so present. This "burning" of light brings us back to a real moment, to Barthes's "that has been" (La Chambre Claire, 1980):
"De trente-cinq ans de pratique photographique, d'obsessions, c'est peut-être ça qui reste : un mode d'enregistrement singulier de la brûlure de la lumière, décliné d'une image à l'autre, en une succession de propositions qui se ressemblent et pourtant chacune est aussi singulière que la fraction de temps auquel elle renvoie." ["From thirty-five years of photographic practice, of obsessions, perhaps this is what remains: a singular mode of recording the burning of light, declined from one image to another, in a succession of propositions that resemble each other and yet each is as singular as the fraction of time to which it refers."] (Marc Trivier).
"La photographie ne dit qu'une chose : « C'était. » On ne fixe que ce qui a été. S'il y a une tragédie, elle est là." ["Photography says only one thing: 'It was.' We fix only what has been. If there is a tragedy, it is there."] (Marc Trivier)
Warhol, Foucault, Beckett, Dubuffet... the greatest writers and artists have posed for Trivier. Simultaneously the artist is also interested in the margins of society, in what men do not want to see. He then photographs the alienated and slaughterhouses that he places alongside celebrities. From the end of the 1980s his work is unanimously recognized and he receives the prestigious Young Photographer Award from the International Center of Photography in 1988 as well as the Prix Photographie Ouverte (Charleroi). After the Palais de Tokyo in Paris, the Musée de l'Elysée in Lausanne and the Casino in Luxembourg, the Maison Européenne de la photographie in Paris dedicates an important retrospective to him in 2011.
The photographs of the great personalities of his era that Marc Trivier creates do not seek to show the public image of these artists. Taken from the front, with a gaze directed toward the lens, they show us an image of intimacy:
"(...) au lieu d'être un portraitiste d'écrivains et d'artistes parmi tant d'autres, il se marginalise par son dispositif : sous prétexte de réglages, il fait attendre ses modèles, il les fait poser plusieurs minutes ce qui leur donne un air las. Il attend peut-être un comportement plus naturel. Et on se retrouve face à Francis Bacon en équilibre précaire, Samuel Beckett, Jean Dubuffet ou encore Michel Foucault plus ou moins tassés sur leur chaise. Des images intimes." ["(...) instead of being a portraitist of writers and artists among so many others, he marginalizes himself through his approach: under the pretext of adjustments, he makes his models wait, he makes them pose for several minutes which gives them a weary air. Perhaps he is waiting for more natural behavior. And we find ourselves face to face with Francis Bacon in precarious balance, Samuel Beckett, Jean Dubuffet or Michel Foucault more or less slumped in their chair. Intimate images."] (Sylvie Rousselle-Tellier, "Une image de fatigue chez Marc Trivier" ["An image of fatigue in Marc Trivier"], Marges 2004).
Photographed in their personal universe, most often their bedroom, the subjects abandon themselves, no longer control their image. The resulting imbalance reveals the fragilities of these strong personalities, and allows Trivier to restore the unity of the intimate body and the public work.
"Je lisais Genet ; pour moi Genet, c'était des lettres sur un livre. Et puis un jour j'ai vu son portrait, il y a eu comme une fracture. Comment était-il possible que ces signes soient aussi quelqu'un ? Faire un portrait, c'est ressouder le nom et le visage." ["I was reading Genet; for me Genet was letters on a book. And then one day I saw his portrait, there was like a fracture. How was it possible that these signs were also someone? Making a portrait means welding together the name and the face."] (Marc Trivier).
More than a portrait, each photo is the testimony of an exchange between the subject and the artist, of a moment of real life. The presence of the photographer is felt in each of the portraits that Trivier creates:
"Ce qui m'intéressait, ce n'était pas de photographier simplement un corps ou un visage, mais cette situation particulière qui est quelqu'un en train de faire la photo de quelqu'un d'autre." ["What interested me was not simply photographing a body or a face, but this particular situation which is someone taking a photo of someone else."] (Marc Trivier).