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Magnum Magnum: Antoine d'Agata by Patrick ZachmannWith the publishing of Magnum's latest book "Magnum Magnum" (see Martin Parr's introduction) we present you three sample chapters of this epic 6,5kg book on the Magnum Blog. In this book each Magnum photographer is represented by six works chosen by, and accompanied by a critical text from, another member. We started with Chien-Chi Chang by Bruce Davidson, continued with Eve Arnold by Elliott Erwitt and finish our presentation today with Antoine d'Agata by Patrick Zachmann.
I like the idea that Antoine d'Agata is part of the 'Magnum family', because there is nothing more stimulating than trying to make photographers fit in who don't conform to the usual image of our venerable agency. Nothing could be more boring than accepting a new photographer who is a clone of ourselves. When I saw Antoine's work for the first time, I had a shock. I had become saturated with photography in general, which I found repetitive and limited. I had tried other formats - square, panoramic, colour, then cinema - all in an attempt to escape boredom or repetition. Suddenly, Antoine's work proved to me that with photography you could still surprise and move people. I really loved these photos that brought me into the world of the night. D'Agata spares us nothing, and he spares himself nothing. He seems to photograph everything he experiences, in its entirety, to excess. He puts himself in danger and takes photos at moments when most of us would have given up. You cannot tell where the private ends and the professional begins. This is what drives most photographers, in a constant to and fro between the inner world and the outer world. His work shows a need to speak, to show, to reveal oneself, to cry out - a sense of urgency, as if our existence was threatened. Henri Cartier-Bresson claimed that one has to step back from reality and become invisible. Robert Capa said you have to get so close to your subject that you feel fear. As for D'Agata, while he belongs perfectly properly to the tradition of reportage, he gets close enough to his subjects to make them blurred, and even includes himself in some pictures, as if to show that to leave oneself out would be a delusion. Whether it is the work of a photographer, painter or film-maker, a work of art makes sense and touches me when it bears traces of the artist's self-portrait.
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Magnum Magnum is a 564 pages, 13.3 pounds heavy book edited by Brigitte Lardinois. It was published in English by "
Reader comments (7)
I just saw d'Agata's work at the Photographer's Gallery in London (still there!). Mindblowing, close, personal, strange, harsh. Many of those images just keep on showing inside my head. As Patrick writes, it really is a refreshing piece of work when you think that things are getting a bit too monotonous. I just don't see how he fits in Magnum, though, but I'm glad he's there :o)
Comment posted by Joni Karanka on December 12, 2007
ditto. the very notion that photography teaches us about the outside world frustrates me. the only insight of the outer world can come from an awareness of the inner world first. thru antoine's work i get that. everything i learn from his photography starts and stops with what i learn about him. s
Comment posted by spiro miralis on December 12, 2007
i agree the outside world can only be know from knowing the inside world...still learning though
Comment posted by Savoy Sison on December 23, 2007
Comment removed due to users request.
Comment posted by jukka onnela on December 27, 2007
i second that last comment and i'm sober
if the world is suffering from image saturation then its a photographer like D'Agata who is going to save it
Comment posted by alek on December 30, 2007
totally bored...and out to lunch!
Comment posted by heather on January 2, 2008
Oh, boy - lots more ugly pictures! Magnum is gaining more and more gravitas among the elites who are bored and need more and more alienation to keep feeling special. It's a downward spiral that leads away from public embrace (for some silly reason, the average non-elite LIKES technical craft and the ability to identify with the subject) and into that miniscule circle of salonists who talk about monotony. "I'm bored, give me ugliness." Yech!!!
Comment posted by Terry Carroll on January 6, 2008