Considerations by the artist

Introduction

Every year I lead an icon painting course on this small island. And in my spare time, camera in hand, I try to capture its beauty. Still, conventional photography techniques have never quite satisfied me. The fixed frame limits my ability to incorporate my feelings into the image. After all, the beauty of a landscape is not just in front of you: it is an experience that integrates everything that surrounds you.

In 2010 I discovered a new computer technique that allowed me to combine captured photos and transform them into spherical panoramas. I absolutely wanted to test this process.

The first image

This is my very first image: the cloister of the guest house at the Abbey of Notre Dame de Lérins. I was pleased that the photo captured the texture of the earth and the plants at my feet, as well as the entire perimeter of the monastery and the opening to the sky, accentuated by the ascending shape of the palm trees.

My first impressions of this photographic technique left me with mixed feelings. Too playful, and too distracting. I doubted if it would allow me to create a coherent series of photos. However, I continued to test the possibilities, more out of curiosity than enthusiasm.

The discovery of the graphic potential

I found a small tree which, although downed by the prevailing wind, tries to survive by throwing its branches to the sky. I again took a series of photos to compose a spherical panorama. Back in front of my computer screen, I discovered the magic: the convex image projected the entire environment of the moment the photos were taken. I could virtually move in, get out of it, or go deeper into it. In this single photographic sphere, the perspectives and fields of view seemed unlimited. I found that with this technique I could significantly increase the interpretive potential of a landscape.

The tempest

Having deliberately chosen to limit my photographic research to this one small Saint-Honorat, I quickly made an inventory of all the possible views around the island. It quickly became clear that I needed a variety that goes beyond just shooting different subjects. That is why I often captured the same scene under different illuminations, and under different moods of sky and clouds.


One night, the weather turned abruptly. At the time of this photo, the storm had already lifted on the north coast. A strong wind distorted the elegant silhouette of the palm trees and cracked the surface of the water. In the stormy sky, the azure background was the last memory of a beautiful afternoon. I quickly captured the moment before seeking shelter.

Fiery skies

The traveler who comes from the north and travels to the south of France is brutally attacked by a very special ecstasy and delight. As for Vincent van Gogh, when he settled in Arles, the intensities of light, colors and scents remain inexhaustible sources of inspiration.


That afternoon a huge cloud fell into the sky. In a few minutes the whole landscape had become the scene of a blazing battle between light and clouds. Finally, by hiding the sun, the horizon put this momentous end of the day to sleep.

When the night arrives

Experiencing a sunset, and the twilight that follows, creates a strange emotional deepening. As if our inner intimacy expands to the dimensions of the entire landscape while the meaning of our lives reveals itself with an unexpected clarity. The disappearance of the sun reminds me of the prospect of my own death, and gives me a privileged few minutes to capture that moment. The moment is all the more precious because it is limited, for the spectacle of the waning light quickly settles. And then the night begins, a more hostile universe.

The rising sun

At daybreak, the light brightened very slowly and peacefully. This silence was suddenly broken by the sun appearing on the horizon. Its first rays were bold, almost aggressive, and an omen of an oppressively hot day. But at such a moment, the brilliance and radiance of those first beams give us a spectacle of unforgettable intensity. So much beauty. So soon. So near.


The photos reveal another remarkable aspect of the used technique: it allows both the light source and the illuminated subject to be reproduced in the same image.

Encounter with unspeakable feelings

Certain photos evoke intense and sometimes painful memories. This is especially the case for these concave-projected photos, where the sky in the middle seems to want to suck us in, to pull us out of a difficult crossing, darkened by the silhouette of inhospitable rocks mixed with murky water. An evocation of the famous tunnel of light, described by people who have had a near-death experience.

An image that succeeds in recreating a feeling that one has had to endure in all intimacy can become a source of comfort. It breaks the loneliness of the ordeal and bestows it with a universal character.


This picture was taken using two light sources: that of the cold and brittle moon, and that of the sun's rays from beyond the horizon, which manage to soften the white stones of the fortified monastery with an orange glow.

A supernatural moment

The sea was unusually calm that evening. Not a breath of wind, the water surface was completely smooth. When I stood on an overhanging rock, the edge of the water's surface had become invisible. On the horizon, the last rays of the sun lit up behind a tree, and they seemed to decorate the foliage with a golden border. The sky, the light, the earth and the seabed became one. I felt an exceptional experience, as if this moment revealed to me the profound connection of all creation.


This photo, and the memory of that moment, convinced me definitively. The photographic technique was able to meet my expectations, and I would build an artistic work with it.

Graphic oxygen

I tried to form the silhouette of the eastern coast, facing the offshore wind. But back in front of my computer screen, I wasn't quite sure how to use this shot, because the colors were too ugly. So, a bit out of spite, I converted the shot to black and white. After I printed the result, I immediately saw the advantage that black and white photos could have for an exhibition: breathable, sober and stable amid exuberant colors and shapes.

Associated with the papal encyclical Laudato Si', these exhibitions are now multiplying like small seeds, and many wonderful encounters follow in their wake. However, when we become aware of how heavily these images contrast with today's ecological challenges, a sense of helplessness can overwhelm us.


If the transformation of our way of life is to make any sense at all, we must also have the courage to radically change who we are. It is a view that Pope Francis beautifully summed up (LS 217):


The ecological crisis is a call

to a profound inner conversion.


Jacques Bihin, 2021