Your art frequently showcases consistent elements, such as strong characters brought to life through accessories like high heels and colors such as vivid red. Do these elements carry deeper symbolism, or do they primarily serve aesthetic purposes?

I make choices before a shoot, a base, but I take pictures in a very instinctive way and don’t think much about the colors or a deeper meaning behind things while shooting. This comes after I get my films developed. The selection process is just as important as the shooting part. That’s when I start to see things on a different level. What might have worked and what doesn’t, with a more objective view. I do like to leave a lot to interpretation. Even if I see my own symbolism in a particular work. I believe that it’s very personal and dependent on the viewer’s own story and sensitivity ? Regarding your reference to heels and colors, I’ve cultivated a sort of fascination for shoes since childhood pretty much. And I shot so many Louboutins that I sometimes wonder if that wouldn’t be part of the reason red started being so present in my color palette. Other motives come back a lot, broken objects and nature, desolated places, covers and masks, animals. They are all charged with symbolism. My work revolves a lot around the idea of death (not in a morbid way), of loneliness, of power play, of absurdity. And the myriad of subterfuges we create, use or engage into in order to forget about it. Often in a light way.

Considering your social, cultural, and familial background, do you perceive a discernible influence on your artistic style and aesthetic?

I don’t come from an artistic family or background. I grew up in a small French village (the ugly kind) without TV.
I learned from my own resources. From the literature chapters of my mom’s shelf, to a few photo books from my school’s library that shaped my vision of the medium forever, to directors whose movies left a mark on me. I went to art school and the doors of the dark room were open, but they didn’t really teach photography. When I passed my master’s, the jury told me that I should give up the medium and pursue writing instead (not in English, haha). I was an absolute loner until I entered high school and made my first friends then. Which left me with lots of time for physical activities and to try getting good at it (mostly riding bikes, climbing and circus). Although it’s not something I was aware of, maybe it’s muscle memory, but I’ve been told on so many shoots that I move a certain way at work. I do move a lot. And have an annoyingly hard time staying in place in my life in general. I moved to Berlin in 2007, lived there for 13 years, and this place influenced me. In the lifestyle and freedom we were allowed there. And the people that gravitated there of course. It was a city where I found it easier than most places I knew to just be yourself, honest, and nothing more. Nobody around me seemed to feel pressured to pretend either. That’s something I cherished and that fed my work in a way.
My ex-wife is a luxury lingerie designer (DSTM) and we collaborated for many years. We talked about designs and alterations a lot, she gave me creative freedom for the image of her brand when she started it. We shared studios and I had access to pieces to shoot anytime of the day or night. A lot of catsuits, leather, nylons, some latex. I realise that all I’ve always been interested in is people, their world, more or less fabricated. Feeling like a silent observer. I never belonged to any « club » nor followed any trends in any aspect of my life. Not by choice, it simply never appealed to me. I felt just as out of place, and at my place simultaneously, at a dog show, in a punk mosh pit or at a fashion party in a chateau. I look at it all exactly the same way and with the same level of interest: People looking and thinking mostly alike, gathering together to feel good about themselves and share something they have in common. And I don’t say this in a cynical way. I actually often envy them, the feeling of belonging somewhere, whether it’s fake or genuine. I never really felt that.