Thomas Dhellemmes

Born in 1963 in France, Thomas Dhellemmes lives and works in Paris.

Thomas Dhellemmes has been passionate about photography since his childhood. After studying visual arts, he went to live in the Cape Verde Islands. When he moved back to Paris, he decided to dedicate himself entirely to photography. He developed personal artistic projects while earning a living by doing photography commissions (lifestyle, gastronomy, luxury...) with Atelier Mai 98, the creative photographic studio he founded.

Thomas Dhellemmes has primarily expressed himself by using his Polaroid SX 70 camera. He likes the timelessness, uniqueness and slowness of every picture. The camera’s imprecision gives the spectator a total freedom of interpretation. As a traveling photographer, Thomas Dhellemmes continually searches for a moment of absolute grace. His photographs speak of existence and of the fragility of life with its ephemeral nature. He nurtures a mysterious distance with each subject.

“ Jour bleu is a voyage into my intimate life. My images are enigmatic, imprecise and damaged, like abstractions similar to painting. This resembles my memories that, over the years, have slowly been erased from my recollections. All that remain from these voyages are moments of abundance, of happiness. A moment each person has already felt in his life. A timeless, universal moment. “

The meeting happened on a summer day in Tangiers. And then the years passed. But the blue, resembling silence, remains. Inhabited. Full. Tahar Ben Jelloun’s words coexist with Thomas Dhellemmes’ images taken on his blue, melancholic, uncertain days. He began to write poems without a specific project in mind. Just writing, under the open sky, on the sea, by a cross. He knew nothing about the places, dates or countries Thomas had crossed in moments plucked from the past with extreme softness.

Julie Estève, writer

Without place or date, Thomas Dhellemmes' Polaroïds retrace the routes he has taken over the last two decades. Tanzania, Cape Verde, Morocco, Japan... Everywhere, he watches from a safe distance for scenes touched by the grace that his blurred snapshots preserve. Put aside as soon as they were taken, they would later resurface, this time mixed with other, seemingly unrelated images. The graft takes, and despite the post-cut sutures marring the final image, the charm works. These free associations are sometimes laborious, as evidenced by the successive layers here and there forming half a sheet, as thick as the stock of memories. Eternally unsatisfied, Thomas Dhellemmes removes what he is reluctant to show, eliminating cumbersome passages and useless details from the annals, before scanning the residue of things, finally enlarged. These stages, too, are part of the journey whose strange notebook, kept at home, sorts out the true visions, each with its share of fakery in the end.

Virginie Huet

Time

I wonder a lot about eternity and our passage on Earth.

As a result, I feel very concerned by the fragility of life, and the trace it will leave.

My photography is an intimate journey, intimate in the sense of restraint, modesty and distance from its subject.

distance from its subject.

Not to be confused with intimacy/voyeurism, my photography does not reveal secrets, but rather

rather, it will keep mysteries alive.

Keeping secrets to keep people questioning.

My Polaroid

Isn't the square the most elegant shape? The most neutral?

The accident (of the damaged image) with the Polaroid is like a gift from heaven, something unforeseen, almost divine.

unforeseen, almost divine.

The fragility and slowness of my Polaroid, its imperfect image, also ephemeral at times (you have to scan the

because it can be erased).

The image is unique, not multiple. Its detachment from reality creates the Polaroid “charm”.

It's a kind of act of resistance against today's world.

You have to remain vigilant with the Polaroid, so as not to be tempted to make “easy,

nostalgic” images, but to create images that are contemporary and timeless.

My image

Without emotion, I don't make photographs, and then this emotion must inevitably provoke a questioning

questioning (the second look).

It must be rare and to the point, and reduce the unnecessary.

It refuses to be anecdotal, and doesn't like the spectacular.