Portrait de René Char à l'Isle sur Sorgue. Photographie Originale de l'artiste

Large original black and white photographic portrait by Marc Trivier.
Original unsigned gelatin silver print, as with most of Trivier's works.
Precious original gelatin silver proof by the celebrated 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 earlier portraits, and the printing paper he used is no longer commercially available. The artist "makes his own prints on Ilford baryta paper, devoting several days of work to each, 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 suspends them in stainless steel frames of his own making, allowing free rein to the life of the paper." (Xavier-Gilles, "Marc Trivier et la tragédie de la lumière" in Le Monde Libertaire, 2011). This "life of the paper" participates in the work as much as the various alterations that photographs undergo when they are exposed: "In the 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", Le Monde, 2011). Marc Trivier has a particular sensitivity to the material aspect of his productions. While photography is essentially about the multiple, this intervention by the artist in the entire creative process confers an autographic aura to these prints.


Photographs of artists, of madmen, of trees or of slaughterhouses, Marc Trivier approaches all these subjects with a gaze as precise as it is intense.

"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 retouching, no cropping. We find in his work the same square format emphasized 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 an instant of life and not of pose. It is this light, linked to the photographic medium, that unites Marc Trivier's series:

"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, delivered from all artifices, that gives his works the aura that makes them so present. This "burn" of light brings us back to a real instant, to Barthes's "that-has-been" (La Chambre Claire, 1980):

"From thirty-five years of photographic practice, of obsessions, this is perhaps what remains: a singular mode of recording the burn 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).

"Photography says only one thing: 'It was.' One fixes 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 insane and the slaughterhouses that he places opposite the 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 devoted an important retrospective to him in 2011.



The photographs of the great personalities of his time that Marc Trivier creates do not seek to show the public image of these artists. Taken frontally, with a gaze directed toward the lens, they show us an image of intimacy:

"(...) 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. He perhaps awaits more natural behavior. And we find ourselves facing Francis Bacon in precarious balance, Samuel Beckett, Jean Dubuffet or Michel Foucault more or less slumped in their chairs. Intimate images." (Sylvie Rousselle-Tellier, "Une image de fatigue chez Marc Trivier", Marges 2004).

Photographed in their personal universe, most often their bedroom, the subjects abandon themselves, no longer control their image. The imbalance that results reveals the fragilities of these such strong personalities, and allows Trivier to restore the unity of the intimate body and the public work.

"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 is welding back 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 an instant of real life. The presence of the photographer is perceptible in each of the portraits that Trivier creates:

"What interested me was not simply to photograph a body or a face, but this particular situation which is someone in the process of taking the photo of someone else." (Marc Trivier).