1955, Casablanca, 2000
From March 22nd to Mai 12th 2001
The latest images brought back by Florence Chevallier from Morocco this autumn are full of charm. As if the pact made with the light, sealed forever by the artist, was no longer, finally, perturbed by all sorts of devices set up to screen-out reality, to protect oneself from it. Seafront landscapes – antiquated swimming pools, dilapidated diving boards, rusted objects, beaches with kitsch names, Kon Tiki, Sun Beach or Miami – are top of the bill. Summoned by the photographer, these landscapes surge up like a slice of her past, like a sequence in the story of her emotions. It’s Casablanca viewed as a flashback. It’s Casablanca looked at like Valparaiso or Tangiers, by a woman whose family story, which began here, writes itself in childhood photos with white lace edges. It’s Casablanca echoing like the name of the lovers’ bar, with its neon-lettered sign, in Alain Resnais’ film, Hiroshima mon amour.