I’ve just heard the terrible news from Joel Brard that Jean-François Bauret has passed away, and I’m beside myself.
I recently suggested to Jean-François that his brother Gabriel and I put together a book of his work, and I would have wanted dearly to spend a little more time with him.
Jean-François was a man, a real man, and I adored him. He was a loner, a subversive, someone who was passionate about his own work but who also liked to get others involved in his projects.
With him, there was no compromise. Photography was a cry, an offering and a gift. His nudes were a means to unlock the human soul. His photo shoots were like happenings. The girls, posing against a grey background, were beautiful, and they grew even more beautiful through his lens. He skinned them alive,they became artists, people filled with love.
For me his photo shop was like a magical cave. I remember it like it was yesterday. He demanded precision, thirsted for the absolute—and he matters in the history of French photography, even if he was sometimes overlooked. The modern times must have been hard for him. He had to suffer the ‘Experts’ who invaded the French photo world and who have nothing in common with real artists. Jean-François was a real artist.
Read the full article on the French version of L’Oeil de la Photographie.
Claude Nori
