{"id":4318,"date":"2025-12-31T11:42:55","date_gmt":"2025-12-31T10:42:55","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.cacp-villaperochon.com\/agenda\/photographers-in-residence-2021\/"},"modified":"2026-03-31T09:20:49","modified_gmt":"2026-03-31T07:20:49","slug":"photographers-in-residence-2021","status":"publish","type":"agenda","link":"https:\/\/www.cacp-villaperochon.com\/en\/agenda\/photographers-in-residence-2021\/","title":{"rendered":"Photographers in Residence 2021"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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Photographers in Residence<\/strong><\/h1><\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
From 01 April
To 28 May<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n
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Rencontres de la jeune photographie internationale 2022<\/h2><\/div>\n\n\n\n

At the heart of the Rencontres de la jeune photographie internationale is a unique Artist Residency. In April 2020, due to the health crisis, the Artist Residency – accompanied by J.H. Engstr\u00f6m <\/strong>– was postponed to April 2021 and then rescheduled to September 2021, without allowing us to unveil the creations made there. These were shown at the RJPI 2022 alongside the creations of the 2022 Artist Residencies<\/a>. <\/p><\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

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Further information<\/h2><\/div>\n\n\n\n
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<\/path><\/svg><\/span>Exhibition from April 1 to May 28, 2022 at Le Pilori<\/span><\/div>\n\n\n\n
<\/path><\/svg><\/span>Tuesday to Saturday, 1:30 to 6:30 pm, closed on public holidays<\/span><\/div>\n\n\n\n
<\/path><\/svg><\/span>FREE ADMISSION<\/span><\/div>\n<\/div><\/div>\n<\/div><\/div>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n
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Lucile Boiron – FIG.1 FIG.2 FIG.3<\/em><\/em><\/h2><\/div>\n\n\n\n

Visible and opaque, erotic or morbid, feminine or masculine, the fig fascinates as much as it repels. A black box with a hole allowing it to communicate with the outside world, it is not a fruit but a cavity in which an insect comes to die by fertilizing it. Absorbed and digested by the matrix, fruit and flower develop inside. Red or pinkish filaments that can be uncovered by tearing or biting. <\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

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Lucile Boiron’s Instagram account<\/a><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n

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Martina Cirese website<\/a><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

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Martina Cirese – Silence is sexy, 2015 – Ongoing<\/em><\/h2><\/div>\n\n\n\n

(Italy)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I photograph intimacy because I miss it. Doors open, allowing us to talk in confidence. Niort turns out to be more open to experimentation than any of the big cities I’ve lived in so far. The first week ends on the fly. I rush into the laboratory the following Monday. I have to be quick to leave a trace of my time here. The format that stands out is the contact sheet on glossy paper. I find myself in the lab after dinner, playing with light masks in the dark. White on black… each revealed moment follows on from the next, in a unique flow of flesh, bodies and links crystallized in time. <\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n

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Fr\u00e9d\u00e9ric Danielsen<\/h2><\/div>\n\n\n\n

(Denmark)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I photographed the youth of Niort. Some encounters were planned, others happened by chance. For example, in front of a supermarket, by the river or kissing in the park. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular. But for all of them, I photographed where they were in an interesting period of life. A period between childhood and adulthood. A period marked by the first deep feelings and the first hard knocks. <\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

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Fr\u00e9d\u00e9rik Danielsen’s Instagram account<\/a><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n

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Jeanne Dubois-Pacquet website<\/a><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

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Jeanne Dubois-Pacquet – Experiments, based on the Bord du Monde library<\/em><\/h2><\/div>\n\n\n\n

By land or by sea?On the edge of the world or the edge of worlds? Sentence or path?Poetry or science?Interpretation or obsession?Material or invisible?Against the shape of the sea or the shape of the cliff? Shape of the world or counter-shape of the earth? Sea flakes or earth puddles? Frame the lines or let them fly?<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n

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Leif Houllevigue<\/h2><\/div>\n\n\n\n

(Belgium)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

From river to river, from sea to ocean,From forest to trail,Footsteps through fog and zenith grow louder, A nightcap at pop114I’ve got to get home,Damn, I forgot my shoes on the roof of the car.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

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Leif Houllevigue’s Instagram account<\/a><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n

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Emma Riviera website<\/a><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

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Emma Riviera – Stories from Niort and the Deux-S\u00e8vres region<\/em><\/h2><\/div>\n\n\n\n

This is the story of my Artist Residency in Niort, or rather my journey through the Marais Poitevin. I wanted to meet people, wander around at random and take photos. I drove from village to village, looking for a subject. In the end, it was a succession of ordinary stories: a dangerous man, a dusty sex shop, a local legend. But also the Mir space station and a misplaced toothbrush. <\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n

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Neus Sol\u00e1 – It’s about me. Or, rather, about us.<\/em><\/em>s.<\/h2><\/div>\n\n\n\n

(Spain)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It’s not about you, or him, or them. It’s about me. Or rather, about us. It sounds strange, talking about me.Of me with you,When I’ve always hiddenIn the other.Coming here was a political actA resounding successA fight against giving up To preserve my space So as not to dispara\u00eetreAnd hereI have triedChasing time by taking its silences, Finding myself in the piecesOf a suddenly fragmented life,Of interrupted directions,Of pierced dreams.I wanted to sew these moments togetherTo fill them with stories and imagesIn a desperate cryThat would save me from what is fading away.But all I found were empty bodiesWhile my soul boiledDesiring to find another languageThat would free me from the staticFrom the perfect From the artificial. Frustration. Saturation. Despair.Facing self-delusion <\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

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EXPLOSION<\/strong>And suddenly, it turns out that everything is Less importantLess relevantLess urgentI [de]construct my ideaIn search of the blurThe rawThe authentic.Whatever the form!The fortuitousVomitThe spontaneous The imperfectAnd here I am me, we areIn our new formatMore etherealOpening our bodies to infinityJust as you came into the worldTo trust what is not yetTo learn to let go of what is obsolete To move forward lightlyAnd embrace the unexpectedWhile I hold your hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Neus Sol\u00e1 website<\/a><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n

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Yorgos Yatromanolakis website<\/a><\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

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Yorgos Yatromanolakis<\/h2><\/div>\n\n\n\n

(Greece)<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Niort’s environment was for me something strange and unique. Despite this, the river quickly became a strange compass for my wanderings. Leaving Fort Foucault early in the morning, I would freely follow the course of the river and walk for hours, as if hypnotized. I’d immerse myself in observing the river’s flora and fauna. Sometimes I’d find myself on the outskirts of town, and other times I’d wander in circles, disorientated by the meandering river. <\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n

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Manon Thomas – Gyn\u00e9c\u00e9es<\/em><\/h2><\/div>\n\n\n\n

I push open the translucent door of this place, there’s a metallic tinkle as I step inside. Scents of vanilla and cinnamon waft around me. I’m transported into this capsule where a multitude of lotions and ointments sit on shelves. On all sides, large iridescent cardboard surfaces reflect the light, on which radiant faces stand. A radio plays soporific music, and a very singular quietude seems to reign here. <\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

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Manon Thomas website<\/a><\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n

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