A contemplative lens on society

OLGA LIVSHIN

French photographer Patrick Faigenbaum started his artistic life as a painter in Paris. His migration towards photography coincided with the 20th-century development of photography as one of the leading genres of visual arts, on par with painting and sculpture. The first North American survey of Faigenbaum’s work is now on display at the Vancouver Art Gallery.

Vancouver artist Jeff Wall has known Faigenbaum for nearly 20 years and it was at his suggestion that the gallery pursued the mounting of the French photographer’s work. According to Wall, who is co-curator of the exhibition (together with Kathleen Bartels, the gallery director), photography was considered a sub-field of journalism until the middle of the 20th century. Routinely, Wall writes in the introduction to Faigenbaum’s exhibit, photographs accompanied reportage, “providing pictorial content for world press,” and occasionally were published in the coffee book format. As the leading photographers of the era struggled for acceptance beyond the press and began to push the artistic merit of their craft, a new current emerged: photography as visual art.

It appears that photography’s moment is now. A Damon Winter article, “The lens rises in stature,” in the March 20 New York Times, attests to the arrival of photography as a main event: “Where the curator of 20 or 30 years ago struggled to be recognized, this generation no longer has to fight to be heard. Museum directors are realizing that photography exhibitions attract crowds, particularly the young audiences they covet, so they are giving more attention and space to the medium than ever before.”

Wall and Bartels acknowledge this rise in photography’s prominence and the value of displaying large-format works in museum spaces. Wall himself is one of Canada’s best-known artists, noted for his large-scale back-lit cibachrome photographs that often feature aspects of Vancouver’s natural and industrial landscapes.

“This show demonstrates how a photo can look different in a book or catalogue format and in an exhibition context,” Wall explained during the media preview tour of Faigenbaum’s show. “Most of Patrick’s photos have been published in books but they look different here, enlarged and framed on the gallery walls. The same images have two different lives.”

Faigenbaum, who was in Vancouver for the opening, joked about his reasons for switching from painting to photography. “I was drawing and painting, but it took forever to arrive at a complete image,” he said. He recalled visiting Amsterdam in the 1970s for the Van Gogh paintings and stumbling upon a major photo exhibition. “I saw it and I knew: I wanted to do that. I wanted to be a photographer, get an image in one click. But, now, after all these years, I want to paint again.”

Of course, reality was neither as simple nor as smooth, but the door into the new dimension of photography opened just as a young Faigenbaum was starting to search for his own creative path. Eager to explore the medium, he stepped through.

He first gained international recognition in the 1980s for his series of photo portraits of Italian aristocratic families. Some of them are included in the VAG show. The images in these photos resemble historical paintings and are very formal. Like the portraitists of the past ages, Faigenbaum paid utmost attention to the composition of the pictures; his painter’s background coming through loud and clear. Every figure is placed in the exact location and position, every gesture rehearsed, balanced by the architectural details, priceless classic sculptures and paintings surround the live subjects.

As a communal portrait of a social class, already disintegrating, these photos contrast sharply with another series, hung in the same room: a photographic panel of the artist’s family picnic, taken at about the same time. There are no solemn poses there and not many faces either. The artist’s camera catches his subjects unaware, having fun: someone’s backside near a door, a sun-lit bench, a table laden with food, all disembodied legs and arms, the rest of the body outside of the shots’ frames. The images are casual and organic. Like the series of Italian nobility, however, this series is also a communal portrait – of a middle-class French Jewish family.

Portraiture is the dominant theme of Faigenbaum’s art: not only of individual people but also of groups and the places those groups inhibit, and even those represented in ancient art. His series of photographs of Roman classic sculptural busts encompasses 26 images, several of which are on display at the VAG.

“When they were made,” he explained, “there were gems in their eyes. Over the centuries, the gems got stolen, so it seems their eyes are empty. I wanted to capture their gazes. It took time with each bust to find that gaze. I even told them not to move while I searched for the perfect spot to take a photo.”

Faigenbaum succeeded in his self-appointed task. His busts look at the viewer like living people, with their thoughts and dreams trapped forever inside the stone.

His landscapes and cityscapes also seem alive, emphasizing social conventions and communal ambience. He doesn’t seek the glossy artificial beauty of tourist attractions but rather the underlying stories and histories, impressions and emotions. More often than not, he spends months or even years in a city, being its official pictographer, immersing in it, pursuing the elusive soul of the place rather than its surface polish.

His series of Prague, taken in 1994, during the transitional social period, is gloomy, almost mournful; inspired by Franz Kafka. “I always thought about Kafka when I was in Prague,” Faigenbaum reflected. The country’s checkered history, intertwined with the citizens’ feelings of insecurity, influenced the images.

In contrast, his series of Sardinia is lyrical and uncommonly lovely: the landscapes infused with sunlight and shadows, busy people, complacent cows. While his Prague is all black and white, highlighting the distance between the artist and his subjects, his Sardinia photos are suffused with happy color, replete with romantic undertones.

Color has special meaning for Faigenbaum. “Color in photography has the same relationship to black and white as electric sound to acoustic. Black and white is more intimate, but I’ve been experimenting with [the] color and shape of the frames,” he said.

He has also been trying different approaches to portraiture. Unlike his early portraits, his later photos are often more informal snapshots of life: children playing in a yard, an old woman having her nails done, vacationers promenading at the sea shore. “Sometimes I stay in the same place for hours to capture the perfect moment, the right composition,” he said. “I don’t care if it is morning or evening, a sunny afternoon or a grey twilight. Every kind of light is good for me.”

Several images on display at the VAG come from the artist’s Israel trip. “I was invited to a kibbutz,” he said about his portrait of an old, careworn woman. “Look at the light on the floor, creeping up to her hands. Although this woman’s face is in the shadows, I know she is very strong.” Pride in his Jewish heritage leaks out of the picture.

Unlike the old woman, whose life is obviously anchored in the past, another Israel image reflects the future: a boy playing by a brook. Only the boy’s backside is visible to the viewer, but the large black-and-white photograph shimmers with light and hope.

The exhibit of Faigenbaum’s work is at the VAG until June 2.

Olga Livshin is a Vancouver freelance writer. She can be reached at [email protected].

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