Tuesday, October 5, 2010

I think she's fantastic. Sophie Calle.

Hasselblad centre, Götenborg, Sweden.
30 Oct - 6 Feb
Sophie Calle 
(born 1953) is a French writer, photographer, installation artist, and conceptual artist. Her work frequently depicts human vulnerability, and examines identity and intimacy. She is recognized for her detective-like ability to follow strangers and investigate their private lives. Her photographic work often includes panels of text of her own writing.

If you by accident come across other good pictures of her works, please, let me know.


'I WANTED A LOVE LETTER, but he would not write one to me. One day, I saw the word« Sophie » written at the top of a piece of stationery. This gave me hope. Two months after our wedding, I noticed the edge of a sheet of paper sticking out from under his typewriter. I pulled it toward me. The last line of a letter appeared : « My confession is last night, I kissed the envelope with your letter and photo ». I continued to read, in reverse : »You asked me once if I believed in love at first sight. Did I ever answer you ? » At the top of the page I noticed these words were not addressed to me but to a letter « H ». I crossed out the « H » and replaced it with an « S ». This became the letter I had never received. '


"Our improvised roadside marriage in Las Vegas didn’t allow me the chance to fulfil the secret dream that I share with so many women: to one day, wear a wedding dress. So, on Saturday June 20 1992, I decided to bring family and friends together on the steps of a church in Paris for a formal wedding picture. The photograph was followed by a mock civil ceremony performed by a real mayor and then a reception. The rice, the wedding cake, the white veil - nothing was missing. I crowned, with a fake marriage, the truest story of my life."



"When I was fifteen I was afraid of men. One day in a restaurant, I chose a dessert because of its name: ‘Young Girl's Dream’. I asked the waiter what it was, and he answered: "It's a surprise." A few minutes later he returned with a dish featuring two scoops of vanilla ice cream and a peeled banana. He said one word: "Enjoy." Then he laughed. I closed my eyes the same way I closed them years later when I saw my first naked man."


"I was thirty, and my father thought I had bad breath. He made an appointment for me with a doctor whom assumed was a general practitioner. Except that the man I found myself facing was a psychoanalyst. Given the hostility my father always manifested towards this profession, my surprise was total. My first words were: "There must have been a mistake, my father is convinced I have bad breath and he sent me to a generalist." "Do you always do what your father tells you to do"? replied the man. I became his patient."