Article de Jean-Christophe Béchet. Magazine "Reponses Photo" N°150 septembre 2004
Translated and re-published with permission
Marseilles as seen by Serge Assier
In Marseilles,
there is more than just Pagnol and the Olympique de Marseille (football team). There is Serge Assier. Atypical, captivating, compulsive, and
moving, it took us no less than 15 pages to share with you the pleasure of a
meeting we had with him, unlike any other.
(p46)
3140 Square meters of the Old
Port
In 1985, Serge Assier
decided to accept a challenge: produce an exhibition and a book on Marseille
while only photographing a small piece of the sidewalk that runs alongside the Old Port! Like a living theater
play, he would concentrate his efforts on this 3140m2 stage (that he himself
selected from the public register). It
would tell the suprising, unordinary tale of life in Marseilles. Upon completion, the exhibition would include
57 photographs and have great success.
(p48)
L’Estaque
From September 23rd, 1990 to September 23rd,
1991, Serge Assier took the portrait of the “village”
of Estaque, one of the most original neighborhoods of Marseilles. The place has inspired Cezanne, Braque,
Matisse, and, more recently, the film director Robert Guedigian.
(p50)
Good Mistral
2000: the 11th exhibition organized by Assier, and the third time he turns his gaze upon Marseilles. This time a new challenge: to photograph the
Mistral, that sublime wind, dry and magestic,
that clears the sky and makes the Mediterranean
howl. Serge attempts to photograph the
wind in the Goudes region (thus the play on words
with the title), and he chooses a stereoscopic apparatus to record the wind’s
fury.
The Edge of the Earth
The edge of the Earth
could very well begin in the Goudes on a day when the
Mistral is blowing. There is no shelter,
the seagulls lament, and the sea grows excited and crashes against the silvery
rocks. A man fishing with a pole listens
to the swirling water, children have fun “taking-off” into the wind, and
mothers drying the laundry are snared in their lines.
The Catalogue with Glasses
The 44 photographs in
the book and in the exhibition “come alive” thanks to a device
which allows the viewer to feel the raised elevations for himself, a
pair of colored glasses that come with the book. Even without the glasses, however, the images
in Good Mistral are still superb and intense.
To each his own Cape
Horn . . .
(p52)
24 Hours with Serge Assier
There is the Serge Assier
that you have discovered in the preceding pages, and then there is Serge Assier the local photographer who works for the Marseilles daily La Provence. When we proposed to Serge that we follow him
on a regular workday, he accepted immediately.
For him, “there are no big or small shots,
there is only photography, that’s all”. A real lesson in professionalism.
In Marseilles, the
daily La Provence
is the product of a merger between two enemy papers, the left-leaning Le
Provencal and the right-leaning Le Meridional. Serge was with the Provencal. He is currently the “dean” of local photography. To everyone’s surprise, several years ago he
accepted to work exclusively for the local Marseilles edition of the paper, that is, the
six or seven daily pages of local news. (La Provence is published seven days a week). The paper deals with local issues - “run-over
dogs” - as they are known in the jargon of the
press. In principle, these stories are
normally the domain of beginning photographers, but for Serge Assier, a local reporter is as important as one who covers
a war. “You know”, he says, “the most read news is
still the local news!” On his motorcycle, Assier
combs Marseilles. He knows all its recesses, helped no doubt by
the ten years he spent here as a taxi driver.
He could seemingly talk forever about his adopted city, and he is a
prime witness to the many changes there.
From demonstrations to strikes, from the local news to accidents, he has
especially noticed the erosion of public services, schools, hospitals, and
more. Warm, extrovert, driven, and
professional, he works five days a week from 7 A.M. to 7 P.M. For the local edition concerning Marseilles, there are
between three and five photographers on call every day.
His basic equipment, fournished
by the paper, consists of a Canon EOS-1Dand three lenses: a 17mm f:2.8, a 100mm f:2, and a 200mm f:2.8, not to mention a Speedlight flash.
Our rendez-vous to follow Serge Assier was planned for June 10th,
and we were to follow him live on his motorcycle - a day in the life of a local
photographer.
(p56)
18h30
Serge drove me to his place in the middle of a group
of buildings in the south suburbs. There
I discovered a 100 square meter appartment rather
entirely dedicated to photography. Only
his daughter Pia’s room has resisted the
invasion. Everything is
put away with presicion and order. Serge Assier
the “reporter” morfs into Serge Assier
the “artist”. The material from
all 15 of his exhibitions is preserved in framed
wooden boxes ready for expedition. The
cellar and the garage are equally filled with shelves
where dozens of boxes and crates of images are enthroned. Even the parts of the building held in common
with other appartments are home to several meters of imposing crates of
material. Once inside, however, it is no
longer a joking matter; one enters the creative
universe of an artist unlike others. The
interview with “Serge Assier - artist” can now begin.
(p57)
The Interview
The subject of a report on the television channel Arte
and in the national daily Le Monde, Serge Assier also has his biography in the French edition of
“Who’s Who”. There, one can read that he
has been a shepherd, an apprentice baker, a café waiter, a dock
worker, an automobile mechanic and a night-time taxi driver in rapid
succession. A rather
strange trip for a photographer, eh?
You have really been
a shepherd?
Absolutely! I was a shepherd from age 13 to 15 near Gap in Nefle. My destitute parents could no longer care for
me, and I was placed in a foster home which raised
sheep. Suddenly, I had to quit school .
. . and all ties with my family were cut.
You aren’t originally
from Marseilles?
No, it was from the age of 15, after my
experience as a shepherd, that I discovered Marseilles.
I was a real little runt, but I had incredible strength. So I found work on
the docks at the Quai de Maroc. I hauled bunches of bananas on my shoulders,
and they were heavy, believe me! I didn’t end up working there very long, however, because an inspecter came around one day and found that I was too
young to be working there. I then worked
a little in a bakery before moving on to auto mechanic. . .
You were a mechanic, too?
You know, when you have to survive, you learn
quickly! I slept in a car in front of
the garage because I didn’t have enough money to rent
an appartment.
After, you wanted to
be a singer, but that whole affair turned sour quickly . . .
Yes. At
17, I went up to Paris
for that. In fact, I found work rather
quickly in some bars and restaurants.
They put me up, and I was payed in tips. Thereafter, the whole thing went downhill
rather quickly, and I ended up the next thing to a bum. I slept in cardboard boxes in front of the
post office on the heating grates of the subway on General Leclerc Avenue,
near Denfert-Rochereau. I contracted scabies and the shingles, and
they sent me to a clinic to get treated. There, I had the impression I was some sort
of guinea pig for the doctors. They didn’t treat me with any respect at all. I rebelled.
I told them all that one day they would all be calling me “sir”!
This rebellion
allowed you to get back on your feet again?
Without a doubt, but you know, alone you can’t make much of yourself.
It’s through others that one makes
progress. For example, during the period
I was sleeping on the street there was a lady in Denfert-Rochereau who, after feeding her handicapped son,
gave food to the street people. Thanks
to her, I never went hungry. Without
her, who knows what would have become of me.
And today, as a result, my 15 year old daughter
gives a euro to every street person she meets.
Even if she meets fifteen of them! And I am proud of
that. But the
most amazing part of the story of the lady in Denfert-Rochereau
is that, one day, ten years later, I saw her in the audience at the Cannes Film
Festival. I was there in a dinner jacket
with the other photographers, and I noticed someone staring at me from behind a
fence. I didn’t
recognize her. As I approached her,
though, her face looked familiar. I
said, “Do we know each other?”. She said yes.
And so I met again the lady who had fed me in Paris. She had recognized me immediately but hadn’t wanted to remind me of that painful time in my
life. It was very moving.
Cannes. Wasn’t it there that you discovered photography?
After Paris, I
came back to Marseilles
in 1966 and got my old job back as a mechanic.
As luck would have it, we were not able to completely
adjust the settings on one client’s Alfa-Romeo, and he asked me to
accompany him on a trip to Nice to see to the adjustments. Well, I never made
it to Nice! On the way, in Cannes, I saw crowds of
people, glitter, stars, photographers . . . it was the festival. I left the Alfa-Romeo and its owner and spent
a week in Cannes. The first day I met three photographers, and
I asked them straight away, “How does one become a photographer?”. One of them said, ”It takes connections and a good eye!”. They took turns showing me their cameras and
the basics of
photography, and they even put me up in the appartment
that they had rented. There was Maurice Gaulmin, Louis Tremellat, and
Georges Wyatt. I owe a lot to them, too.
Was that the moment
that photography struck you?
Oh yeah! Upon my return to Marseilles, I sold my Peugot
404 and bought a Nikon F, a couple of lenses, and a zoom that weighed a
ton. And I
began to take pictures right and left of everything while still continuing to
work at the garage. In 1972, I began to
work as a taxi driver at night. For ten
years, until 1982, I worked at two jobs - driving taxi at night and shooting
pictures during the day. And every year I went to Cannes during my vacation. Thanks to my driving taxi, I knew the addresses
of the evening parties, and eventually I got myself recognized. My pictures began to appear in the regional
dailies Le Provencal, Var Matin,
and in cinema magazines like Premiere.
Although a cabbie, and despite some hostility from my “colleagues”, I
got fully accredited, which helped out
enormously.
When did you move on
to professional photography full-time?
(p58)
The first big date was in 1979 when I got my
first press card. I never lied: I told
them I was a cabbie, but that I was getting more and more photos
published. Still, there were people who
did everything to bar me from the profession, but the commission finally gave
me my card. You know, nothing came
easily; I always had to fight.
With the magic card, I began to work for Gamma,
VSD, and for some German magazines. And also, of course, still for the French dailies. Soon I had 17 affiliations! It was real insanity. I was in Monaco
in the morning, in Marseilles at noon, in Avignon
in the evening. I had become a
photographing machine. My passion had
become a living hell. I never
stopped. Then, in 1982, everything
stopped! Heart attack. I was 36 years old, and the doctors told me
to start to take it easy if I wanted to stay alive.
So, what did you do?
I went immediately to see Gaston Deferre, the mayor of Marseilles
and also the editor-in-chief of the daily Le
Provencal. I explained my situation to
him, and he agreed to hire me as a paid photographer at the paper. What’s more, I was able to get onboard with
an entry-level position with a correspondingly good salary. Because of this, I fell immediately out of favor with all the other photographers there at the
paper. With my new position, however,
the rhythm of life became much less stressful.
In the beginning, I really liked it, but after awhile I got a bit
bored. I had to do something else at the
same time. It was then that I started
thinking about exhibitions and leading the life of an artist.
So another
saga began - one that was also an adventure, I think?
One could say so . . . To begin, I went to see
Lucien Clergue in Arles who I was acquainted
with. I asked him what I had to do to
participate in the Arles Exhibition. He
answered with a smile, “So you want to play the artist, too!”. I slammed the door, I left in a rage, and I
swore I would return to Arles
whatever it took. That is when I had a
piece of luck, the biggest of my photographic career: meeting the poet Rene
Char.
I still worked occasionally for Gamma, and one
day I had to cover a meeting between Jack Lang and Rene Char in L’Isle sur Sorgue. The pictures of the meeting turned out well,
and I met Rene Char a few days later to ask him to write something for my
pictures. That’s
when he uttered the sentence that would stay with me for a long time: “I will
write a preface for your pictures, if photography is to you what poetry is to
me. I came into poetry when I was 16,
and poetry for me wasn’t just a single day, a single
month, or a single year - it was something for life. I hope that, for you, photography will not be
just a single day, month, or year, but something for life as well”. And that is how my
first two exhibitions were accompanied by the words of Rene Char.
Can you tell us a
little about the Arles
exhibitions?
Well, it’s a bit
complicated. The first didn’t go too well because my pictures were all nudes and
didn’t fit in well with the other exhibition themes. The critics went for me, especially the
journalist from the Mediterranean edition of Figaro Magazine! The second was called
“Eight Solicitations and a Song”. I
immediately understood that the main interest of the organizers of the
exhibition was to get Rene Char’s signature in their
catalogue and not my photos. They had planned the exhibition so, and when I
discovered it - just before the opening - I saw that they had kept all the Rene
Char texts but left out half of my pictures! I was furious! I called Rene Char, he came to see me in Arles, and he
agreed with me. Cut in half like that,
the exhibition wouldn’t have the same value. So, the day before
the opening, I picked up my pictures and I left Arles! The exhibition had been
announced only in their catalogue, so noone
ended up seeing the Arles Exhibition of 1985.
I then decided two things: first, I would come back every year to Arles but only
unofficially, and second, I would never let the organizers of exhibitions have
control over any texts that accompanied my work, even in the catalogues. I don’t have to tell
you that after this explosion, I was boycotted by Clergue
and all the other exhibition officials for years. Now, I have reconciled with Clergue . . . but everywhere - in Toulouse,
in Lyon, in Chalon - I had to put
together my own shows, including arranging for space in new venues like university
libraries, for example. All the official
places like the Photographic Foundation refused to show my work. It was war.
I had fought, and it was anger that forced me on.
(p59)
And today, are you still angry, still a rebel?
All that has slacked
off a bit. I am no longer
a rebel. To be a rebel is to be pissed
off at the world, to be aggressive. No, let’s just say that I try to stay vigilant. Yes, that’s it, I
try to stay vigilant.
We can see this
“vigilance” in your exhibition catalogues.
Actually, you create a new one for each show, but you don’t
sell them. You simply give them to your
friends, like your prints. You refuse to
sell them. Can you explain this rather
unique stance in the world of
photography?
Let’s just say
that I try to keep my professional press work at La Provence, which
puts food on the table, separate from my artistic work. But be careful. I am not saying that there are noble
photographs and disgusting ones! All
photographs are worth appreciating; there are no big or little pictures.
That’s just
it. I don’t
want my artistic work to be polluted by money.
I don’t want to mix money and my personal
photos. With me
nothing is for sale! Who
do you think buys prints? The bourgeois public!
And I don’t want to sell my art to those
people. They were the ones who ruined my
family. When I’m
ready, I’ll give all my work to the National Library.
An what of your famous catalogues reserved for your
“friends”?
As for the catalogues, I publish them
alone. I get some help from the city of Marseilles, the local and
regional assemblies, from Credit Mutuel, from Caisse d’Epargne
. . . The problem is that the catalogues get more and more expensive each
time. The last one on Cannes cost 40 000 euros, including
everything - the printing, the exhibition itself, the framing . . . I started with 300 18x24 prints only to have
to reduce it to 54. And
I sent five copies each to the authors who wrote texts for the prints: Michel Butor, Fernando Arrabal, and
Jean-Charles Tachella. I can’t pay them,
but I can send them copies. It’s the least I can do.
And all the travelling to meet them, to Paris and Geneva,
it all gets expensive. I end up making
30x40 prints and then take care of the distribution and the framing
myself. And now
public funding is drying up, too, especially since the federal government has
transferred these types of payments to regional control. It’s
culture and sports getting the short end of the stick.
To finance my artistic work, I save 40-50% of
my monthly salary. I live simply. I don’t have a car,
only an old motorcycle. All my money
goes to my pictures, my prints, my framing, my exhibitions . . .
In my catalogues I
don’t want any political writing or advertising, either. These people usually don’t
understand me, especially when they have some money to spend. But I struggle and I
manage. In the catalogues, there’s only my pictures and the texts from my writer
friends - Rene Char before, and now Michel Butor, Arrabal, Jean Kehayan.
Of your 15 exhibitions, there are only three that speak about Marseilles: L’Estaque, Good
Mistral, and 3,140 m2. Yet, you are considered to
be the Marseilles
version of Doisneau.
After my retirement in two years, perhaps I
will shoot more of Marseilles. But you know, in Marseilles, there are
some 110 neighborhoods, and that takes a lot of
time. As for Doisneau,
he came to see me once, and we took some shots of l’Estaque
. . . and he was right to say, “before going around
the world, start by looking around where you are”. It was by following this principle that I
chose the 3,140 m2 area of the old port and was able
to limit the work to photographing only this small piece of the wharf.
And for your work on l’Estaque?
Well, I was depressed one day, and I took a
ride over there (Estaque is a small fishing port
which is a part of Marseilles). That particular day, I happened to take a
picture of a bride. I really liked the
shot, and I decided to shoot Estaque between the 23rd of September,
1990 and the 23rd of September,
1991. And as a
challenge, almost as a bet, I decided not to develop the film before the end of
the project. At the end of the year, I
found myself with 200 rolls of HP5 to develop, mat,
and print . . . and I didn’t have any money!
You know, sometimes I take some stupid bets!
At La Provence,
you shoot in color and digitally, but in your
artistic work, you have stayed 100% loyal to traditional black and white. Why?
For me, there is more poetry in black and
white, more shades. With black and
white, you can dream,
you can imagine the colors. When I was a correspondant
with Gamma, I worked in three types of film: slides, color
negatives, and black and white. Today,
as you have seen, I use a Canon EOS-1D with three lenses. For my personal work, I have a Canon EOS-5
with a 24mm and an 85mm, that’s all. As for film, I have always remained faithful
to Ilford and HP5. For nudes, I push it
up to 3200 ISO because I like the grain on the skin. And for prints, too,
I use Ilford Multigrade.
And for a lab?
Before, I did everything myself, especially when
there was the lab at the paper. And then I gradually retired from that. Now, at the moment,
I give my negatives to the NB lab in Marseilles,
and the prints for the exhibitions are often done by Pascal Bonneau
who has taken over from my first printer Bernard Caramante.
In the beginning of
September, you will have the Visa Festival show in Perpignan, “The Songs of Lorraine”.
What are your other plans for the future?
The next exhibition on Rome for 2005 is ready. Michel Butor,
Fernando Arrabal, Jean Roudaut,
and Bruna Donatelli have
done me the honor of writing the texts. But the financing
hasn’t been wrapped up yet - it’s getting harder and harder. Apart from that, after Perpignan in September, I have
been invited to Berlin
to photograph the city. Actually, it’s my first time, and I don’t know if I’ll be inspired or
not. You see, in Rome
it worked out really well, but from Barcelona, I have just three or four good shots. I didn’t get enough
for an exhibition.
In fact, what is
impressive is your ability to work and create, and your way of working alone
while being surrounded by people.
Well that brings us
back to the same thought: a single man doesn’t
exist. It’s others who
force you to go beyond yourself. A lot of people have helped me, and even today I can’t thank
my employer, the daily La Provence, enough for the freedom
and the trust that they have shown me.
At the office, too, people help me - even if it’s
just helping me with correspondance, solliciting support, or correcting my spelling. You know I speak a lot more “Marseillais” than French!
In fact, between my daily job at La Provence and my
artistic work, I am a bit of a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde in the world of
photography.
To learn more:
After showing a 20 year restrospective of his work
on the Cannes Film Festival, Serge Assier will also
be in Perpignan
for the Visa Festival 2004 with his work entitled “Songs of Lorraine”. It is an opportunity to discover another
facet of the work of this Marseilles
photographer, one far removed from the Mediterranean climate . . . “Songs of
Lorraine” from August 30th to September 15th, 2004 at the Salle Theodore Monod Gallery, 44 place Hyacinthe Rigaud,
66000 Perpignan. Telephone: 06.19.92.49.24
For 2005, Serge Assier has already scheduled his 15th exhibition on Rome, entitled “Cronica di Roma”. The exhibition will be
presented in Arles. But budgetary
restrictions have brought uncertainty to the project, more uncertainty than
usual for Serge. If you want to support
his work, and be a member of his famous “catalogue club”, you can contact him
directly at the following address: Serge Assier,
residence Valmante, Bat. G3, 151 traverse de la Gouffonne, 13009 Marseille. So that a
free-spirited photographer can live . . .
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