In England during the 1970s-80s, it was all about crossing the English Channel. There was no tunnel at the time. Ferries were often crowded. Meal trays, aftertaste of fish and chips, duty free alcohol… With folklore helping, the crossing went quickly. Sometimes seasickness gathered everyone at the railing, and the most cunning estimated where the the wind came from…
I was twenty. Great Britain attracted me like a distant planet. The street was the store front, and I plunged my camera into it without inhibition. I took photos for… me. I learned to take a look, find the right distance, the right moment… I looked for words, a language able to describe such an exotic Anglo-Saxon society.
I made this pilgrimage each year, just until the end of the 1980s. These images remained in my filing cabinets for 30 years, but they are the founders of my photo-reporter work. They allowed me to train my eye, to become a photographer, to have a funny dialogue with the world, its tribes, and to perceive where these societies in their rituals take us…
I found these images with joy and was able to breathe this air of liberty again that blew over the ferry at that time.
Photographies of Gil Rigoulet
From May 18th to July 2nd, 2016
Le 247 – galerie de photographies
247 rue Marcadet
From wednesday to saturday from 2 to 7 pm