MOSHÉ - Sandrine Lopez
"This is not a set of photographs.
Let's go a step further: this is much more than a specific project. Moshe never shows, never tells, never asserts. It's an experiment, an asceticism, a groping in the night of worlds.
Moshe could be just that: a relentlessly repeated questioning. A gleaming gaze, somewhere between curiosity and terror, on the abysses of being. But no less: on the nameless power of what holds him upright before us, flesh and spirit. Terribly naked, tragically fragile. But nevertheless, there, intensely, in spite of troubles, trials, catastrophes and glances. (...)
The body, the flesh, the face, and ink on paper (the latter also being voice), then. But not from an intimate or introspective perspective, as one might imagine. Moshe is a treatise that is part negative confession, part conjectural essay. Its purpose, if it is a manifesto, is an invitation to consider that which has the improbable force of opposition to absolute nothingness, or to that repeated nightmare we call History. The position of a frail hand, the curve of wrinkled eyelids, the profile of such a singular being as Sandrine Lopez shows us are nothing short of derisory. For it's not Moshe they reveal to us, but herself and ourselves, body and soul. Our flaws and cracks, so many, so obvious - but even more so, the inexplicable lightning bolt that carries us and keeps us standing, despite the darkening of Time and the constant suckling of Death."
Published by l'Éditeur du dimanche, 2007
21.8 cm x 28.7 cm, 144 pages, mint condition
ISBN
"This is not a set of photographs.
Let's go a step further: this is much more than a specific project. Moshe never shows, never tells, never asserts. It's an experiment, an asceticism, a groping in the night of worlds.
Moshe could be just that: a relentlessly repeated questioning. A gleaming gaze, somewhere between curiosity and terror, on the abysses of being. But no less: on the nameless power of what holds him upright before us, flesh and spirit. Terribly naked, tragically fragile. But nevertheless, there, intensely, in spite of troubles, trials, catastrophes and glances. (...)
The body, the flesh, the face, and ink on paper (the latter also being voice), then. But not from an intimate or introspective perspective, as one might imagine. Moshe is a treatise that is part negative confession, part conjectural essay. Its purpose, if it is a manifesto, is an invitation to consider that which has the improbable force of opposition to absolute nothingness, or to that repeated nightmare we call History. The position of a frail hand, the curve of wrinkled eyelids, the profile of such a singular being as Sandrine Lopez shows us are nothing short of derisory. For it's not Moshe they reveal to us, but herself and ourselves, body and soul. Our flaws and cracks, so many, so obvious - but even more so, the inexplicable lightning bolt that carries us and keeps us standing, despite the darkening of Time and the constant suckling of Death."
Published by l'Éditeur du dimanche, 2007
21.8 cm x 28.7 cm, 144 pages, mint condition
ISBN
"This is not a set of photographs.
Let's go a step further: this is much more than a specific project. Moshe never shows, never tells, never asserts. It's an experiment, an asceticism, a groping in the night of worlds.
Moshe could be just that: a relentlessly repeated questioning. A gleaming gaze, somewhere between curiosity and terror, on the abysses of being. But no less: on the nameless power of what holds him upright before us, flesh and spirit. Terribly naked, tragically fragile. But nevertheless, there, intensely, in spite of troubles, trials, catastrophes and glances. (...)
The body, the flesh, the face, and ink on paper (the latter also being voice), then. But not from an intimate or introspective perspective, as one might imagine. Moshe is a treatise that is part negative confession, part conjectural essay. Its purpose, if it is a manifesto, is an invitation to consider that which has the improbable force of opposition to absolute nothingness, or to that repeated nightmare we call History. The position of a frail hand, the curve of wrinkled eyelids, the profile of such a singular being as Sandrine Lopez shows us are nothing short of derisory. For it's not Moshe they reveal to us, but herself and ourselves, body and soul. Our flaws and cracks, so many, so obvious - but even more so, the inexplicable lightning bolt that carries us and keeps us standing, despite the darkening of Time and the constant suckling of Death."
Published by l'Éditeur du dimanche, 2007
21.8 cm x 28.7 cm, 144 pages, mint condition
ISBN
