We enter the twentieth century - or a bit before - with Atget, and we
need to measure the road we travelled so far. In 1887, Maddox replaced the
difficultly moveable wet sensitive plate by the dry gelatine plate. In 1880, a
New York paper inaugurates the photoengraving process allowing for unlimited
reproduction at reduced costs. In 1887, the Blitzlicht-pulver, a powder
allowing the flash, is launched. In 1888, Eastman, then aged 35, designs and
commercializes the first Kodak box charged with a film reel (paper coated with
sensitized gelatine) of 100 views, whose principle he had developed in 1884. The
k-o-d-a-k phonics (k-k,o-a,d) evokes both the click and the canning.
Now, anyone can take photographs, anywhere, at any time, under every
possible angle: ‘You press the button. We do the rest’. Photography begins to
visualize everyday life and intimacy. It becomes a means of scientific
investigations on the animal movement with Muybridge and on oscillations with
Marey. It supports great inventories on the urban and social transformations
induced by the industrial revolution. Atget, who obeyed the official demands of
an inventory of the French heritage in its specificities from 1896-98 to his
death in 1927 – not only in some generalities – is a confluent of
this situation.
To define him, let
us remember that photography henceforth allowed to follow the slightest
crumbling, disintegration, porosities, the secret invasions of wind on stone
and wood, water, corrosions. Atget will use as photographic subject this
aptitude of dry plates and chambers of his era and will follow the complete
cosmogonist cycle according to which any natural or cultural product builds up,
stocks useful energy, intelligence and love. What the physician then names
information and neguentropy (Pierre Curie
introduces the notion before dying in 1906) simultaneously falls apart in
cracks and dust to become waste or to age while still in use, or still, before
disappearing into another partial and complete life. In all three cases, it
participates to entropy and noise - in the physician’s sense (Henri Poincaré’s
appalled page on the inexorable entropy of the universe dates from the same
period). This programme does not contradict Nadar’s physiological vision but
generalizes it by activating the full cycle: destruction>partial
redevelopment>destruction…
No earlier
representation would have been capable of following this cycle, not even the
extraordinary geological drawings of the Alps by Brueghel the Elder. By lack of
detail and continuity, but also because the hand and the brain that produce a
painting, sculpture, or architecture introduce construction even in
destruction. Velasquez and Goya recorded the decay of the body, Canaletto the
discoloring of Venice covered in saltpeter, but always following a domineering
view. To the contrary, largely independent from the brain, made up of
referential indexes or indexes, photography was capable of recording the slightest
modalities of noise and entropy, as well as information and neguentropy, testifying
of their reciprocal engendering.
Atget’s
photographic subject, applied to an old street, a facade, an alleyway or stairs
in a park supposes a particular approach of the motive. Every time, he searched
for the point from where nothing stood out or in preponderance, where nothing
would contrast or stick out or cut out or center, where everything would be
left to its local being, fleeting, equal, both made and unmade, hence very precisely
in becoming. The plan of the best definition - which is too declarative - had
to subordinate to the depth of the shot by reducing the diaphragm even if it
meant chopping the top of a scene. The photonic indices had to lead an
existence (indicial) that is as free as
possible, decipherable and indecipherable, recycled or de-cycled, without being
boosted by any one index. We had moved from WORLD 2 to WORLD 3, like Hill and
Adamson, although this time, it was done briskly, without Nadar’s
logic-semiotic paradoxes.
If Atget’s 18 x 24
negatives were detailed, his positive prints were often archaic because of
chemistry’s lateness over optics, but also because of the latent intention
– using the excuse of « these are only documents » - of keeping
them faded and tepid, according to the taker and the taken. Our ‘Entrée de la
cour du Dragon, 50, rue de Rennes’ (*) comes from page 33 of Atget, published by Le Chêne/Hachette, which offers 150 exemplary
photographs that were printed from the negatives more powerfully than Atget
himself would have done. This boost is questionable. Yet, it is more debatable
than Mozart played on a Steinway piano by Frank Braley? The primacy of texture
over structure - which is an essential phenomenon in Atget’s crumbling and germinal
world - is confirmed if it needed to be.