This dazzle, each morning, the brutal contrast between light and shadow, I cannot make it mine. I cannot see anything. And I still don’t know, as the years go by, how to capture that.
I love to photograph Marseille at night under the rain, in black and white because at those moments, I find a sort of poetry that I can’t see under the midday sun. Being a girl from the North, this town continues to astound me with its particular light, each day is different, sometimes too brutal. “Decorative” Marseille does not interest me very much.
At night under the rainfall, this time Marseille reminds me of the time I arrived in Cairo, soaked by the downpour which tumbled from the sky. Ambling towards “La Major”, it felt like I was in Beirut: at the “Plage du Prophète”, in front of the Mediterranean, I felt like I was in Brittany.
Because there is this fact as well: Marseille embodies every town for me.
Jean-Claude Izzo wrote one day that “Marseille is not photographable” After smiling to myself, thinking that like any good native of Marseille, he was exaggerating, today I realize just how true that statement is. Marseille is not easy for me to photograph right away.