Linda Tuloup is speechless. So delicately speechless that we can’t hear her fly. She floats, everywhere. She is a dreamer, eyes open. When she began taking pictures in 2007, a recent graduate in social psychology, her poetic observation of the world was delicately dressed in a baroque dream. Each of her series had an element of the fantastic, a signature strength. Voluntarily absent from newspaper columns (save for a few projects for the magazine l’air), this Young photographer prefers galleries and collectors who have delighted in following her progress. Without fanfare, she began taking her dreamlike double exposures with a plastic holga. Her portraits of sleepy, enchanted flower-men rocking ring like a manifesto. In 2009, she had delicious young girls pose on a pink sheet, their bodies touched by a ray of sunshine, branded in hot iron with a word.
“Gently”, “where are you”, “tell me”, “I want you”… Her “pink room”, the name of her series, fluctuates between dream and reality, truth and lies. Listless lovers whispering into the ears of spectators caught by a gentle breeze of sensuality. These girls, with mostly long brown hair, young and thin, provide a portrait of Linda. They are me. I am “waiting” in her self-portrait. Late 2009, she left for India. On the banks fo the Gange, in Varanasi, she contemplâtes water, light, flowers, bodies. In her eyes, a reflection of the universe. She returns to Paris, awaits a baby. She plunges into a small handmade basin, “bodies among light and flowers”. In the water, her “big ocean”, people floating in the water, flirting with eternity and the powerful truth in pictures of rare beauty. She carries India within. She carries a baby. After childbirth, she begins a new series blending pictures of the forest with people wearing animal masks. Silent duos, testimonials to her style and undeniable talent.
Stéphane Brasca
