Ludovic Paris 20ème I live in Paris, in a very popular Menilmontant. I was not born in Paris, there came only 25 years after "long" dreamed of becoming Paris. Finally, I found myself at the center of the world's most beautiful city in the world. And very quickly, I developed this quality that is very provincial Parisian snobbery. Ever I did in some neighborhoods, deemed too this or too that, and never, never especially, I spent the peripheral boundary defined in the suburbs, those who were put year ban and that "deserved" not my quality, the privilege of being Paris.
Then time passed, the insecurity has come, the people in my neighborhood I am more and more identified. I remain since and hopeless of Menilmontant. I freely admit that I became a little homebody. Of course, I regularly "in Paris," but more out of obligation to my work, because out of the neighborhood, go elsewhere, in another city rather than in the city. The differences can be felt elsewhere, do not enrich forever. That's what surprises me most, I think, the feeling of not inhabit the same city, crossing Montorgueil Saint Germain or even Francois Mitterand. Walk to the Trocadero, across the Place Victor Hugo, leaving Broadcasting House, visit the Quai Branly, then find Ménilmontant must be convinced that we share the same city.
I realize now that I have a real sense of my neighborhood, although I sometimes prefer to have him a little more of my own. "You're from where? - De Menil '! - Ah .... . And everything is said. In the Province, I say rather that I am in Paris, the accuracy of Menilmontant may come after, if it interests who want to know. As for abroad, I'm just saying I'm from Paris, and this is a dream.
But on the other side of the device, I always wanted to know anything ...
Then came Julia Shoemaker. Me, I had my camera with parading semi-pro, more stones, and Julia has appointed a f4.5-5.6/28-105 mm, saying "I wish you use the optical one. - But it's the most rotten!?! - Perhaps, but one that offers greater range! "Really, this girl had decided to broaden my horizon.
example in Bobigny, Seine-Saint-Denis, the mythical "9-3". This is where Julia invited me to go play the reporter, after considering the damn ring road as a single access road. Before we begin, I mingled with apprehension and curiosity. On the other side of the crown, a world virtually unknown until then mainly relayed by a few cliches and remote unreality. My first question, which was meant funny, but marked a certain idea of the suburbs, was whether, in addition to the devices, we were provided bodyguards. Usually, for me, the suburbs, is the cross without looking, without stopping. Bobigny, Aubervilliers and Saint-Denis, I go without worry, and repaired as soon as I finished. The eyepiece of a camera housing means having a look and observe, to seek, to be alert to people and events. Send to captivate interest, identify the attractiveness and beauty of Bobigny too often poorly described by the gray and gloom.
Soon, I felt lost, lost in a suburb I felt deserted in the middle of July. Then after a few hours, a few days I started to spot, identify. Finally, I found myself coming away with an impression of light and space. Bobigny had instilled a sense of air, facing a narrow Paris, perhaps more enclosed, surrounded by that damned device. I strolled along the canal, where I imagined myself hard to find a few hundred meters from the gates of Paris. The weather station between Picasso and Raymond Queneau, the subway became a real campaign train, and between green channel.
I loved to walk among the graves of pitching Muslim cemetery, grab a few laughs of children on holiday in the tram, explore the neighborhood patchwork of Madness, or that of the "Stone Bridge, near the tracks in service or abandoned where I am amused to venture. I think it's my favorite place to photograph. Let us not forget Avicenne Hospital or the site of the illustration (since invested by the University Paris 13) , emblematic of the city of Bobigny.
Also, the picturesque "little suburban houses" and allotments.
A strength to walk, to wander, observe, to photograph, I began to understand that this is how urban legends are born with the fear of what is unknown and prejudices sclerotic curiosity. And finally, the suburbs, I think now that I do not know quite what it is. Certainly it is not really in Paris or already in the provinces, but is somewhere in an identifiable space, but not identified, and where it is possible, despite the conventional wisdom, to feel pleasure, desire and especially the desire to return.
Contact with these few images, but also those of other participants in various cities, barriers were slaughtered, fields of vision and creativity have been open meetings were made. I felt an exhausting but exhilarating feeling of instability, coupled with the pleasant surprise to work within a collective. A new experience, unbelievable and unforgettable, during which I learned a bit more to share, let go and allow light penetration.
To see my photo gallery, click on the link below:
Ludovic Weyland
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