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“Beckett. It was already thirty years ago. The beaches and streets of Tangier were haunted by a figure—more bone than flesh—whom I, alas, often lost sight of amid the sun’s rays. His wading-bird-like silhouette faded into the crowd of Moroccans in djellabas and nonchalant tourists. Like me, they had no idea that this slender man was the great writer Samuel Beckett. His gait seemed to follow a pendulum motion set just for him, his heel striking the ground well before his leg moved forward, his body stiff, thrown backward. His ocean-blue gaze, hidden behind glasses with wide lenses, was fixed too far above the horizon to guide him. I was so moved by my inability to capture the essence of this strange figure that I often forgot to load a film into my camera. After crossing paths so many times, we finally met. I set aside my photography for a while. In his deep voice, he spoke to me about his books, rejected by 27 publishers, about his wife Suzanne, his friendship with Joyce, and his family life in Ireland. He imagined his mother’s astonishment if she had learned that he had received the Nobel Prize. He advised me to read, “to see how others do it.” I had to capture that rare bearing and face, step back, let go of those treasures that were his words and his perspectives, and return to the photographer’s place, behind the lens.”
- François-Marie Banier
Published by Steidl, 2009
15 cm 18.5 cm, 88 pages, like new
ISBN 978-3865219831
“Beckett. It was already thirty years ago. The beaches and streets of Tangier were haunted by a figure—more bone than flesh—whom I, alas, often lost sight of amid the sun’s rays. His wading-bird-like silhouette faded into the crowd of Moroccans in djellabas and nonchalant tourists. Like me, they had no idea that this slender man was the great writer Samuel Beckett. His gait seemed to follow a pendulum motion set just for him, his heel striking the ground well before his leg moved forward, his body stiff, thrown backward. His ocean-blue gaze, hidden behind glasses with wide lenses, was fixed too far above the horizon to guide him. I was so moved by my inability to capture the essence of this strange figure that I often forgot to load a film into my camera. After crossing paths so many times, we finally met. I set aside my photography for a while. In his deep voice, he spoke to me about his books, rejected by 27 publishers, about his wife Suzanne, his friendship with Joyce, and his family life in Ireland. He imagined his mother’s astonishment if she had learned that he had received the Nobel Prize. He advised me to read, “to see how others do it.” I had to capture that rare bearing and face, step back, let go of those treasures that were his words and his perspectives, and return to the photographer’s place, behind the lens.”
- François-Marie Banier
Published by Steidl, 2009
15 cm 18.5 cm, 88 pages, like new
ISBN 978-3865219831
