Gérard Rancinan is one of the most astonishing French photographers.
Above all, the most flamboyant. I once wrote that he was the greatest of pompier photographers, and that’s a tremendous compliment.
His excess, his amplification, his symbolism are worthy of this movement, unfortunately little known or undervalued.
Consider the evolution of his images throughout the day, which we are dedicating to him.
The documentary photographer of the 1980s is gradually giving way to the creative photographer who will overload to the extreme and symbolize the everyday life in his photographs.
Regardless of his presence on the French photography scene, this weekend’s auction in Chartres and his exhibition in the sublime museum in Bratislava give us the opportunity to talk about him.
Jean-Jacques Naudet
“The Living and the Dead”
I’ve seen the living and the dead,
The suffering and the hungry,
Men who thieved and men who had been robbed,
The rebels and the submissive,
The fighters and those that are beaten,
Wounded and flayed soldiers.
Winners and losers.
I’ve seen them all!
Some well-fed, some too fat, some too rich.
Some despised, some rejected, some humiliated.
I’ve known gloomy cellars, insalubrious hotels, wet sheets, muffled screams,
capsized women and shipwrecked men.
I’ve known many men. I’ve known “Kings without Kingdoms,” “Stadium Gods,” “Men of God,” and destinies turned upside down.
Dream merchants and hucksters,
mercenaries, missionaries, forgers, and righteous men.
I’ve known scumbags, scumbags makers, smugglers, and preachers.
Tearful mothers, emaciated children, starving men.
I’ve seen men with mouths full of flies, flies under their fingernails, and torn-off nails. I have known geniuses, artists, scholars, saviors of souls,
I have known easy men and women and some more beautiful than stars and dead celestial bodies in stinking costumes with faces covered in dust, I have known invented paradises.
I’ve drowned myself in jubilant crowds, and I’ve accompanied idolized champions. I’ve seen angels fall, bloated egos, corrupt cops, crooked politicians, and even lovelorn children.
I’ve met kings, popes, princes and queens, giants and dwarves.
I’ve known armless men, two-headed girls, naughty models, who held their glory in the mess of their cunts.
I’ve slept in Sister Emmanuelle’s trash, I’ve kissed dictators, I’ve whispered in God’s ear, made a pact with the devil…
For fifty years, yes, for fifty years, I’ve treated myself to the spectacle of the world in all its splendor…
But is this really the destiny of mankind?
Gérard Rancinan
