Printed in riso, a technique favoring accidents and tactile sensations rather than impeccable reproductions, Slow Motion is, in thirty images, the summary of a photographer's life now moving more and more towards painting.
On the back of the cover, you can guess a painted face, ghostly in essence, and everything is already there of the major concerns of the photographer haunted by the history of crime in the 20th century: the questions of the figure and the disfiguration, of the appearance and disappearance, of anonymity and recognition, of the necessity of art and its mad ambition to establish a link between the living and the dead.
Would Slow Motion therefore be an arty testamentary pamphlet? No, nothing to do with the morose delight declined in iconoclastic gesture, but a form of assessment, obstinate and essential, of the adventures of destruction at the time of totalitarianism. By FABIEN RIBERY