{"id":75,"date":"2021-01-01T18:00:37","date_gmt":"2021-01-01T17:00:37","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/webredox.net\/demo\/wp\/annie\/dark\/bibendum-bride-ante-copy\/"},"modified":"2021-02-15T05:12:05","modified_gmt":"2021-02-15T04:12:05","slug":"beginnings-of-a-passion","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.dominic-c.fr\/index.php\/2021\/01\/01\/beginnings-of-a-passion\/","title":{"rendered":"The Beginnings of a Passion | D\u00e9buts d’une passion"},"content":{"rendered":"
I have very little memory of my beginnings in photography. However, this passion was probably passed down by my paternal grandfather, who was an amateur photographer himself. My father even told me that \u201cPapy Louis\u201d did some resistance during World War II by setting a secret photo laboratory in the back of his tailor shop to make identity photos for false passports.<\/span><\/h6>\n
It all truly began when my parents offered me a small Instamatic Kodak for my First Communion, so small that it could fit inside a pocket. I must have been 12 years old at that time and I got into making photos of family life. But my passion bloomed only a bit later, around the age of 16-17 after my father gave me a reflex camera. In fact, I remember pinching my dad\u2019s Canon AV-1 as often as I could to study every detail of how it was working.<\/span><\/h6>\n
As a teenager, I was way too shy to photograph women although my very first models were my two little sisters. But at the \u2018lyc\u00e9e\u2019, I was known as the class\u2019 best photographer to such an extent that the \u2018Institut Libre de Marcq-en-Baroeul\u2019, where I did my bachelor in science, trusted me to make its official photo for promotion in 1986.<\/span><\/h6>\n
Well, I suppose that my passion for the 8<\/span>th<\/sup><\/span> art was giving me a reputation since almost all my classmates already knew that I wouldn\u2019t become a doctor, an engineer or a lawyer like them. I was perceived as the artist of the group (I also had a passion for music) and during the competitive exams for higher schools, my focus was \u2018l\u2019Ecole Nationale d\u2019Arles ou Louis-Lumi\u00e8re. <\/span><\/span><\/h6>\n
I remember trying those exams two years in a row but once I had my bachelor, I wasn\u2019t convinced (or motivated?) that a photography diploma was a door-opener to bring out my talent. Failing the exam, I decided not to waste time and accepted a job as a trainee in an advertising photography studio, conveniently located just a 10-minute walk from my parent\u2019s house.<\/span><\/h6>\n
But stepping into the reality of the professional world was a shock. After obtaining an education in one of the quote \u201cbest\u201d institutions of Lille area, I suddenly found myself wearing overalls and cleaning lighting cables for a studio. As a start in the world of professional photography, you must admit that it\u2019s about the lowest level one can get, isn\u2019t it? On top of that, my boss regularly took advantage of the fact that I lived close and made me get up early to repaint the cyclos (curved panels used as backdrop) before the opening of the studio at 8am.<\/span><\/h6>\n
As a \u201cgood Christian\u201d, I never complained but I was becoming more and more frustrated. Will my passion for photography lead me to clean cables and repaint walls all my life?<\/span><\/h6>\n
My dreams were taking me elsewhere, but where?<\/span><\/h6>\n
In the long run, I didn\u2019t keep bad thoughts about those six months as a trainee at\u00a0Studios Courcoux. I learned the lighting techniques of photography and acquired the sense of precision necessary for this work, because, whether it is for technical or artistic purposes, photography requires a certain level of perfectionism.<\/span><\/h6>\n
I even have a few amusing memories of those days, especially when we had to photograph a showerhead in action. The boss, a bit naughty, hired a female model as a living backdrop. We had joined a long hose to the showerhead and recreated a bathroom setting. Of course, the scenario required that the model be naked but unfortunately being the third assistant, I was only in charge of the water tap about 10 meters away from the \u201chot\u201d scene. And my boss, being a bit \u201csadistic\u201d, managed to hide the scene with reflectors that, obviously, were not see-through at all. Frustrated again, I had to participate from far away in that nude photo shoot.<\/span><\/h6>\n
No need to say that I refused straightaway when offered a work extension by my boss whom, nevertheless, seemed satisfied with me. No, I was looking for a photographic situation where I could work in open-air, not in a studio. Without realizing it, little by little my future orientation was taking shape but I only became fully aware of it much later. For the time being, I had to think of a short-term plan. Then I remembered that one of the first assistants had told me about a highly recommended photography school in Brussels where I could perfect my technical knowledge. It was too late to enroll for that year so I decided to fulfill my military duty before being called up (In France, the military service was compulsory for every male citizen until it was ended by Jacques Chirac in 1995).<\/span><\/h6>\n
My choice went to the air forces in Toulouse, south-west of France but I will not expand about that matter as it is not one of the best periods of my youth.<\/span><\/h6>\n
Quick jump now to August 1989: I felt relieved that the army was over with and promptly used this new freedom to prepare my application for that famous Brussels\u2019 school that I had heard of. After a number of return trips to Belgium, I was registered in the francophone section of l\u2019Ecole Nationale de Radio & Cinema, known as In.Ra.Ci. In September of the same year, I found myself back to school life after a brief interlude in \u201creal life\u201d. It was a surprise to see the number of students enlisted, like me, in first year of \u201cGraduat\u201d in photography technique: 45! They were all Belgian except me…the little French recognizable of course by my accent, although not from Marseille!<\/span><\/h6>\n
Next, I realised that a large number of my colleagues had never used a camera. Moreover, I had the feeling that only a minority had a real passion for this art invented by Nicephore Niepce. Frustration accompanied by the feeling of being on another planet finally boosted my desire to show the others what I could do with a camera.<\/span><\/h6>\n
Although the technical classes were tiresome, I truly enjoyed the practical classes like the studio sessions or making slide shows (digital photo didn\u2019t exist yet at the beginning of the 90\u2019s). However, I wasn\u2019t too fond of the dark room sessions and I absolutely hated the corrections (with a paintbrush) taught by our only female teacher, Mrs Hembise!<\/span><\/h6>\n
Nevertheless, I retain many happy memories of those school years: the beginning of great friendships, especially with Denis (as to this day); real fun moments as Belgians are good at partying; my very first nude shoot (a student with the soft name of Sophie); a visit to <\/span>Photokina de Francfort<\/span> ( the photographers \u2018Mecca\u2019 !); getting the 2<\/span>nd<\/sup><\/span> prize in an internal contest and the \u2018Graduat\u2019 (the equivalent of BTS in France \/ Bachelor Degree in Anglo-Saxon countries) after two years of hard work.<\/span><\/span><\/h6>\n
Diploma in hand, I was now a\u00a0photographer and dreamed of moving to Paris. We were in June 1991 and the first gulf war had just ended. I didn\u2019t realize how bad the effects would be on western economies for the following years. Furthermore, digital photography was in its infancy and I could not imagine that it would surpass silver photography a decade later.<\/span><\/h6>\n
Back to my parent\u2019s at Lille, I was offered a position as \u2018Ekta\u2019 (slides) machine operator in a professional photography laboratory. I had to take the job to start reimbursing my student loan and purchase new photographic equipment, since mine had been stolen two months before I finished my studies. After six months of trial, my boss offered me a permanent position with a salary increase but inside myself I knew that I wasn\u2019t made for routine or extremely technical work.<\/span><\/h6>\n
I wanted to discover the world, to become a great reporter, a kind of Tintin!<\/span><\/h6>\n
I turned down the offer and found myself totally free, or not quite since I still didn\u2019t have proper photographic equipment.<\/span><\/h6>\n
Then, one day I received a telephone call from my friend Denis (cf. above), a telephone call that turned out to literally change my life!<\/span><\/h6>\n

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<\/h6>\n

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Je n\u2019ai que tr\u00e8s peu de souvenirs de mes d\u00e9buts en photographie. Cette passion m\u2019a toutefois \u00e9t\u00e9 probablement transmise par mon grand-p\u00e8re paternel, qui \u00e9tait lui-m\u00eame photographe amateur. Mon p\u00e8re m\u2019a m\u00eame racont\u00e9 que \u00ab\u00a0papy Louis\u00a0\u00bb avait d\u2019une certaine mani\u00e8re fait de la r\u00e9sistance pendant la seconde guerre mondiale en cr\u00e9ant un laboratoire photographique secret dans son arri\u00e8re-boutique (mon grand-p\u00e8re \u00e9tait tailleur de profession), afin de r\u00e9aliser des photos d\u2019identit\u00e9 pour de faux passeports.<\/em><\/span><\/h6>\n
Tout a r\u00e9ellement d\u00e9but\u00e9 lorsque mes parents m\u2019ont offert un petit Instamatic Kodak pour ma premi\u00e8re communion, si minuscule qu\u2019il pouvait tenir dans une poche. Je devais avoir 12 ans \u00e0 l\u2019\u00e9poque et je me mis \u00e0 photographier des sc\u00e8nes de vie familiale. Ce n\u2019est qu\u2019un peu plus tard, vers l\u2019\u00e2ge de 16-17 ans, et lorsque mon p\u00e8re d\u00e9cida de s\u2019offrir un appareil r\u00e9flex, que ma passion pour la photographie s\u2019\u00e9toffa. Je me souviens en effet que je chipais souvent le Canon AV-1 de mon paternel et en \u00e9tudiai son fonctionnement dans presque tous les d\u00e9tails.<\/em><\/span><\/h6>\n
Adolescent, j\u2019\u00e9tais bien trop timide pour photographier les femmes, m\u00eame si mes premi\u00e8res \u00ab\u00a0mod\u00e8les\u00a0\u00bb furent mes deux petites s\u0153urs, mais au lyc\u00e9e j\u2019\u00e9tais connu pour \u00eatre le photographe de la classe. A tel point qu\u2019on me fit confiance pour la photo officielle de la promotion \u201986 de\u00a0l\u2019Institut Libre de Marcq-en-Baroeul o\u00f9 j\u2019ai pass\u00e9 un bac scientifique.<\/em><\/span><\/h6>\n
Bref, je devais donc d\u00e9j\u00e0 avoir une \u00ab\u00a0r\u00e9putation\u00a0\u00bb \u00e0 l\u2019\u00e9poque, car presque tous mes camarades de lyc\u00e9e connaissaient ma passion pour le 8\u00e8me<\/sup> art et savaient que je ne finirais pas comme eux, qui comme m\u00e9decin, qui comme ing\u00e9nieur ou qui comme avocat. J\u2019\u00e9tais un peu consid\u00e9r\u00e9 comme l\u2019artiste de la bande (j\u2019\u00e9tais \u00e9galement un passionn\u00e9 de musique), et les concours d\u2019entr\u00e9e en \u00e9cole \u00ab\u00a0sup\u00e9rieure\u00a0\u00bb, c\u2019\u00e9taient pour moi ceux de l\u2019\u00e9cole nationale d\u2019Arles ou de l\u2019\u00e9cole nationale Louis-Lumi\u00e8re, sur lesquels je me concentrai.<\/em><\/span><\/h6>\n
Je me rappelle avoir tent\u00e9 ces concours sur deux ann\u00e9es cons\u00e9cutives, mais, mon bac en poche, je n\u2019\u00e9tais pas certain (donc motiv\u00e9?) qu\u2019un dipl\u00f4me photographique soit un s\u00e9same pour la mise en exergue de mon \u00ab\u00a0talent\u00a0\u00bb. Recal\u00e9, je d\u00e9cidai alors de ne pas perdre de temps et acceptai rapidement un poste de stagiaire dans un studio de photographie publicitaire, id\u00e9alement situ\u00e9 \u00e0 moins de 10 mn \u00e0 pied de chez mes parents.<\/em><\/span><\/h6>\n
Mettre le pied dans la r\u00e9alit\u00e9 du monde professionnel fut toutefois un \u00ab\u00a0choc\u00a0\u00bb, car, apr\u00e8s une \u00e9ducation dans l\u2019un des lyc\u00e9es les plus hupp\u00e9s de la r\u00e9gion lilloise, je me retrouvai \u2013 quasiment du jour au lendemain \u2013 en \u00ab\u00a0bleu de travail\u00a0\u00bb \u00e0 nettoyer les c\u00e2bles des \u00e9clairages de studio. Pour un d\u00e9but dans le monde professionnel de la photographie, vous avouerez qu\u2019il n\u2019y a gu\u00e8re plus bas niveau, n\u2019est-ce pas? Et, quitte \u00e0 d\u00e9marrer au ras des p\u00e2querettes, mon patron jugeait \u00e9galement utile de profiter de la toute proximit\u00e9 de la r\u00e9sidence de mes parents pour r\u00e9guli\u00e8rement me faire lever t\u00f4t et repeindre les cyclos (les fonds muraux incurv\u00e9s aux intersections) avant l\u2019ouverture du studio \u00e0 8h du matin\u2026<\/em><\/span><\/h6>\n
En bon petit \u00ab\u00a0chr\u00e9tien\u00a0\u00bb, je ne bronchai jamais, mais ma frustration grandissait. Ma passion pour la photo allait-elle effectivement me mener \u00e0 nettoyer des c\u00e2bles et repeindre des murs toute ma vie? Mes r\u00eaves m\u2019emmenaient bien \u00e9videmment ailleurs, mais o\u00f9?<\/em><\/span><\/h6>\n
Je ne garde finalement pas un si mauvais souvenir de ces six mois de stage aux \u00ab\u00a0Studios Courcoux\u00a0\u00bb. J\u2019y ai notamment appris les techniques d\u2019\u00e9clairages et la rigueur d\u2019un travail port\u00e9 sur l\u2019attention donn\u00e9e \u00e0 chaque d\u00e9tail, car la photographie, qu\u2019elle soit technique ou artistique, exige une certaine perfection, et donc un certain perfectionnisme.<\/em><\/span><\/h6>\n
Je me souviens \u00e9galement de quelques bons moments, notamment lorsque nous avons d\u00fb photographier un pommeau de douche en action\u2026 Le patron, petit coquin, ne trouva pas mieux que de louer les services d\u2019un mannequin f\u00e9minin pour jouer le r\u00f4le de d\u00e9cor vivant. Nous avions alors reli\u00e9 un long tuyau d\u2019eau au pommeau d\u2019eau et reconstitu\u00e9 le d\u00e9cor d\u2019une douche de salles de bains. Le sc\u00e9nario requ\u00e9rait bien \u00e9videmment que la mod\u00e8le soit nue, mais je n\u2019\u00e9tais malheureusement que le 3\u00e8me<\/sup> assistant commis au robinet d\u2019eau, \u00e9loign\u00e9 de la \u00ab\u00a0chaude\u00a0\u00bb sc\u00e8ne de plus d\u2019une dizaine de m\u00e8tres. Et, comme la coquinerie de mon patron n\u2019avait d\u2019\u00e9gale que son \u00ab\u00a0sadisme\u00a0\u00bb, il fit en sorte de cacher le d\u00e9cor par des r\u00e9flecteurs, dont les faces sombres ext\u00e9rieures n\u2019avaient bien s\u00fbr rien de transparent. Frustr\u00e9 une nouvelle fois, je n\u2019assistai donc que de loin \u00e0 ce shoot de \u00ab\u00a0nu technique\u00a0\u00bb.<\/em><\/span><\/h6>\n
Inutile de dire que je refusai d\u2019embl\u00e9e la proposition d\u2019extension de stage, qui semblait toutefois d\u00e9montrer la satisfaction de mon patron \u00e0 l\u2019\u00e9gard de mon travail. Non, j\u2019aspirai \u00e0 une respiration photographique, \u00e0 l\u2019air libre, et non en studio. Sans m\u2019en apercevoir, mon orientation s\u2019affinait peu \u00e0 peu, mais ce n\u2019est que bien plus tard que j\u2019en deviendrais pleinement conscient. Dans l\u2019imm\u00e9diat, il me fallait justement r\u00e9fl\u00e9chir au futur imm\u00e9diat, et je me souvenais que l\u2019un des premiers assistants m\u2019avait parl\u00e9 d\u2019une excellente \u00e9cole de photographie \u00e0 Bruxelles, qui me permettrait notamment d\u2019approfondir mes connaissances techniques. Il \u00e9tait un peu tard pour m\u2019inscrire pour la prochaine rentr\u00e9e. Je d\u00e9cidai alors de remplir mes devoirs militaires et de devancer l\u2019appel sous les drapeaux (la France fut un \u00e9tat de conscription militaire jusqu\u2019en 1995, ann\u00e9e \u00e0 laquelle le Pr\u00e9sident Jacques Chirac d\u00e9cida de transformer notre \u00ab\u00a0grande muette\u00a0\u00bb en arm\u00e9e professionnelle).<\/em><\/span><\/h6>\n
Je choisis d\u2019effectuer mon service militaire dans l\u2019arm\u00e9e de l\u2019Air, \u00e0 Toulouse, dans le sud-ouest de la France, mais je ne m\u2019\u00e9tendrai pas sur cette p\u00e9riode, qui ne reste pas non plus dans le top 5 de mes souvenirs de jeunesse.<\/em><\/span><\/h6>\n
Avance rapide donc. Ao\u00fbt 1989: c\u2019est avec soulagement que je suis \u00ab\u00a0lib\u00e9r\u00e9\u00a0\u00bb, et ne tarde pas \u00e0 pr\u00e9parer un dossier d\u2019inscription dans cette fameuse \u00e9cole bruxelloise dont on m\u2019avait parl\u00e9. Quelques allers-retours vers la Belgique et me voil\u00e0 inscrit dans la section francophone de l\u2019Ecole Nationale de Radio & Cin\u00e9ma, plus connue sous le \u00ab\u00a0petit nom\u00a0\u00bb d\u2019In.Ra.Ci. En septembre de la m\u00eame ann\u00e9e je me retrouvai donc de nouveau sur les bancs d\u2019une \u00e9cole, apr\u00e8s un interm\u00e8de dans la \u00ab\u00a0vraie vie\u00a0\u00bb, et fus surpris du nombre d\u2019\u00e9tudiants inscrits en premi\u00e8re ann\u00e9e de \u00ab\u00a0Graduat\u00a0\u00bb en techniques photographiques: 45! Tous des Belges, sauf moi\u2026 le petit Fran\u00e7ais, reconnaissable bien \u00e9videmment \u00e0 mon accent, m\u00eame si je ne suis pas Marseillais!<\/em><\/span><\/h6>\n
R\u00e9aliser ensuite qu\u2019un grand nombre de mes \u00ab\u00a0camarades\u00a0\u00bb n\u2019avaient jamais eu en main un appareil photo renfor\u00e7a mon \u00e9tonnement. Et, \u00e0 vu de nez, il me semblait en outre qu\u2019une tr\u00e8s faible minorit\u00e9 semblait r\u00e9ellement passionn\u00e9e par cet art invent\u00e9 par Nic\u00e9phore Ni\u00e9pce. Cette frustration et ce sentiment plus ou moins glauque d\u2019avoir atterri sur une autre plan\u00e8te d\u00e9cupla finalement mon envie de montrer aux autres ce que je savais faire d\u2019un appareil photo.<\/em><\/span><\/h6>\n
Alors, les cours \u2013 assez techniques \u2013 furent certes fastidieux, mais je me d\u00e9lectai des cours \u00ab\u00a0pratiques\u00a0\u00bb, tels les s\u00e9ances de studio ou de cr\u00e9ation de diaporamas (la photo num\u00e9rique n\u2019existait pas encore au d\u00e9but des ann\u00e9es \u201990). Je n\u2019\u00e9tais par contre pas tr\u00e8s friand des sessions de \u00ab\u00a0chambre noire\u00a0\u00bb, et je d\u00e9testai litt\u00e9ralement les cours de retouche photo (au pinceau) enseign\u00e9s par notre unique professeur f\u00e9minin, Mme Hembise!<\/em><\/span><\/h6>\n
De ces ann\u00e9es d\u2019\u00e9tudes, je retiendrai tout de m\u00eame plusieurs \u00e9v\u00e9nements marquants: la naissance d\u2019une belle amiti\u00e9, d\u2019abord, avec mon pote Denis (qui dure toujours); des instants de folie (les Belges savent faire la f\u00eate!); mes premi\u00e8res photos de nu (avec une jolie \u00e9tudiante au doux nom de Sophie); une sortie \u00ab\u00a0technique\u00a0\u00bb \u00e0 la Photokina de Francfort<\/a> (la \u00ab\u00a0Mecque\u00a0\u00bb des photographes!); un deuxi\u00e8me prix lors d\u2019un concours photo interne, ainsi que le Graduat (\u00e9quivalent du BTS en France \/ Bachelor Degree dans les pays anglo-saxons), re\u00e7u apr\u00e8s deux ann\u00e9es d\u2019intense labeur.<\/em><\/span><\/h6>\n
J\u2019\u00e9tais donc devenu \u00ab\u00a0photographe\u00a0\u00bb, dipl\u00f4me en poche, et mon r\u00eave \u00e9tait de m\u2019installer \u00e0 Paris. Nous \u00e9tions en juin 1991 et la premi\u00e8re guerre du Golfe venait de se terminer. Je n\u2019\u00e9tais pas encore conscient de son influence n\u00e9faste sur les \u00e9conomies occidentales dans les ann\u00e9es \u00e0 venir. La photographie digitale balbutiait \u00e9galement et j\u2019\u00e9tais loin d\u2019imaginer qu\u2019elle supplanterait d\u00e9finitivement la photographie dite \u00ab\u00a0argentique\u00a0\u00bb une dizaine d\u2019ann\u00e9es plus tard.<\/em><\/span><\/h6>\n
De retour \u00e0 Lille, chez mes parents, mes recherches d\u2019emploi aboutirent rapidement par une offre d\u2019un laboratoire photographique professionnel pour m\u2019occuper de la \u00ab\u00a0machine\u00a0\u00bb de d\u00e9veloppement des \u00ab\u00a0ektas\u00a0\u00bb (diapositives dans notre jargon). Je l\u2019acceptai sans grande motivation, car la r\u00e9alit\u00e9 \u2013 d\u00e9buter \u00e0 rembourser mon pr\u00eat \u00e9tudiant et palier au vol de mon \u00e9quipement photographique survenu deux mois avant la fin de mes \u00e9tudes \u2013 me l\u2019imposait. Au bout de 6 mois, que je d\u00e9finirai comme d\u2019essai, mon patron me proposa une titularisation et une augmentation de salaire, mais je savais, au fond de moi-m\u00eame, que je n\u2019\u00e9tais pas fait pour ce genre de job, non seulement routinier mais surtout hyper technique.<\/em><\/span><\/h6>\n
Je voulais d\u00e9couvrir le monde, devenir grand reporter, comme Tintin quoi!<\/em><\/span><\/h6>\n
Je d\u00e9clinai donc son offre et me retrouvai libre comme l\u2019air, mais \u00ab\u00a0prisonnier\u00a0\u00bb, car toujours sans \u00e9quipement photographique digne de ce nom.<\/em><\/span><\/h6>\n
Et puis un jour, je re\u00e7u un appel t\u00e9l\u00e9phonique de mon ami Denis (cf. paragraphes pr\u00e9c\u00e9dents). Je ne savais pas encore \u00e0 quel point ce \u00ab\u00a0coup de fil\u00a0\u00bb allait changer ma vie!<\/em><\/span><\/h6>\n
<\/h6>\n

 <\/p>\n

Sensually yours | Sensuellement v\u00f4tre<\/em><\/span><\/h6>\n

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I have very little memory of my beginnings in photography. However, this passion was probably passed down by my paternal grandfather, who was an amateur photographer himself. My father even told me that \u201cPapy Louis\u201d did some resistance during World War II by setting a secret photo laboratory in the back of his tailor shop […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":1144,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[19],"tags":[],"yoast_head":"\nThe Beginnings of a Passion | D\u00e9buts d'une passion -<\/title>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/www.dominic-c.fr\/index.php\/2021\/01\/01\/beginnings-of-a-passion\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"The Beginnings of a Passion | D\u00e9buts d'une passion -\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"I have very little memory of my beginnings in photography. However, this passion was probably passed down by my paternal grandfather, who was an amateur photographer himself. 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