“Go to the corner. This judgment of the primary school teacher falls me on the head and made me pass in an instant from pupil to pariah. I am isolated of this class for an endless moment which obliges me to dream up, eyes opened on this wall which murmurs a pink noise mixed with the chaos of the voices of my companions, the rustlings of stony pencils on the grey slate, the snore of the big Godin stove which I lit this morning, the whistling of the Portuguese workers on the nearby construction site.
The wall in front of me is white but in the cold light of this winter day, it is the grey which dominates, in my head and in my heart also. Freed by a cloud, a ray of sunshine enlightens the space which fills with subtle variations in the crossings of the various plans of walls. The magic moment lasts only a few seconds.
Sounds seem lower but it is an illusion. Everything is so motionless, so changeable, so motionless, so alive. I am inside an abstract art, inside all the paintings. The sight is multiplied tenfold and the imagination pulls me towards ever seen colors. On the return to the cloud, the contrasts are different but the magic is still there, you just have to look.
That day, but I did not know yet, I became a photographer. Writing with the light, as in Lascaux where, discovering fabulous shadows on the calcareous wall at the passage of his torch, a human being -not so different from me- realized his vision of the sacred by sketching a drawing marrying the shape or the shadow of the stone as to reveal the animal hidden in her. It is what I try to make with this other tool, the photography. I do not reproduce the reality, I reveal it.”
André Le Mauff