A most Christ-like image, a bare-chested son rests near his mother. Why does this image of the mother-son relationship move us so? Because the son, by his nudity, looks as fragile as he was on the day of his birth? Because the mother seems fulfilled by the presence of son, who completes her? These images from our Mediterranean roots strike us because they come the dawn of time, and the same time, rest at the heart of the modern psyche.
Co-dependent and distant, this emotional equilibrium is captured with the essential sensibility of a photographer's eye. Denis Dailleux takes his protagonists back to the place where time has shaped them. The sons, with blessed and welcomed flesh physically free themselves from the constraint of their progenitor, all the while remaining under the influence of powerful seed tray that brought them to life.
Swollen with pride and tenderness, they are protective, submissive, or just lively at the sides of their Queen of Sheba, who sometimes devour them from their first breaths. In order to exist, they need only show these successful copies, these ephemeral dialogues, these diligent acrobats, these intrepid builders, these well-read muscle-men.
The photographer messes up the order set by this occasion's decorum, the shots are troubling, a latent voyeurism takes us back to scenes often repeated in different religions that intertwine, where sin, forgiveness, absolution and redemption guide our paths towards an emotional world that gives out in order to better be reborn.
Denis Dailleux offers us unexpected questions where his timely foreknowledge deliberately fulfills our most varied perceptions. Before these most seemingly docile mothers, who attempt to access power through their sun, the photographer signals that the score of the void is always written in a masculine voice.