Stéphane Spach

Stéphane Spach's photos are beautiful. Of that obvious beauty, which escapes the decorative, the necessary beauty stripped of simple things. Stripped but may not be ascetic. A touch of sensuality, a soft chromaticism readily inhabits the work of the melancholy photographer. Looking at these photographs, we see that there is day in the night, it is a night to which our eyes are not accustomed, a dull and deaf night, preserved from luminous halos and hostile headlights. Everything is in nuances, as if the exhibited objects gave off their own phosphorus, their own interior light. Rather, it would be the light of day distilled into the night, subtle, almost intimate images, where one is never in halogen.