Rêve d'Orient, 2008

Rêve d’Orient, 2008

François Fontaine

Rêve d’Orient (Dream of the Orient) combines three series which were produced in the Far East between 2005 and 2008: TransSiberian, Lost in China and Japanese Whispers.
These series were created as if they were movie scenes, the objective being to try to convey through the framing and a colorist approach, a timeless and poetic vision of Asia.

In the summer of 2005, I travelled on the TransSiberian railway from Moscow to Beijing through Mongolia. While on board of this legendary train, I became interested in the silence of shapes, in the density of materials and in the sensuality of bodies. Then I crossed mainland China. Impressed with its dreamlike strength, I chose to translate the reality of what I was perceiving into a symphony of colors and sensations, where poetry and dream would dominate. I tried to bring back the traces and perfumes of an ancient and disappearing millennial China.
In the streets of Beijing, Guangzhou and Shanghai, I had the strong feeling of the persistence of a Chinese aesthetic that had survived the ages and marked a country that was going through fundamental changes.

In the spring of 2008, I traveled to Japan where my father, a naval officer, had lived. As with a shoji a translucent paper door that slides in traditional Japanese houses I was immersed in a silent and aesthetic world. The resemblance between people and nature was the most striking.
The stealth presence observed in the bars of Shinjuku in Tokyo, the frail sliding silhouettes appearing in the streets of Gion in Kyoto, strangely resembled the Japanese prints of my childhood. Just as the hybrid and fantastic shapes that would be covered by trees and bamboo in the gardens of Kanazawa and Kamakura.

The places and the landscapes were marked by a disturbing and ghostly atmosphere. Japan, more than any other country, gave me the uncanny feeling of blending into nature and floating on clouds.

Rêve d’Orient (Dream of the Orient) that combines three series, is an invitation to travel. A poetic, sensory and dreamlike journey.

François Fontaine

— Trans-Siberian, 2005

The name of this train is a real invitation to take a journey.

In the spirit of early nineteenth century travelers, I wanted to go on board the Trans-Siberian to go from Russia to China.

Crossing Siberia to Irkoutsk, on board the Trans-Mandchourian train, then crossing The Gobi desert from Oulan Bator to Beijing on the Trans-Mongolian, were truly enchanting.

During the journey I let myself be transported by the very particular at-mosphere that reigns onboard, capturing with my Leica camera the ghostly souls of the Russians, Mongols and Chinese who haunted the train’s corridors.

Particularly sensitive to the nocturnal atmosphere, to strange silhouettes and to the light at dawn, I completely immersed myself in this moving de-cor with warm and saturated colours.
A phantasmagorical and dreamlike journey on board a mythical train that fascinates and inspires.

François Fontaine

“I saw the silent trains, the black trains, returning from Asia and which would pass like ghosts. And my eyes, just like the rear signaling light, still run behind these trains.”

(Blaise Cendrars)

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— Lost in China, 2005

During the summer of 2005, I did a residency at the Guangdong Museum of Art in Guangzhou.

I travelled to Beijing with the Trans-Siberian then across China, from north to south then south to east by train. Over the course of this incredible journey, I took a particular interest in the silence of shapes, the density of matter, the sensuality of bodies and the shinning of souls.

What impressed me in this country, seized by an uncontrollable modern frenzy, was its oneiric power, as strong as always, which had always made the Westerner that I am dream.

I chose to transpose the brute reality of what I perceived into a symphony of colours and sensations where poetry and dream would be kings. Both in trains (compartments, corridors, station platforms) and in towns (hotels, restaurants, museums, gardens), each time it would be like a window on China opening my neophyte eyes, yet transformed, distorted and elevated by the reflection of my imagination.

In front of a China highly socialized and architected, I wanted to show the incredible power of seduction and the surprising ambiguity of this country undergoing a complete upheaval, and which would – on a daily basis – draw upon the magic of its past as much as upon the revolutionary forces of its future.

In this body of work – very far from any usual documentary photography – I wanted to restitute the traces, the perfumes, the impressions of the millennial and extremely mod-ern China. When, day after day, I strolled through the streets of Beijing, Guangzhou or Shanghai, I had the very strong feeling of the presence of a constant Chinese aesthetic, something of a powerful “look” unique to this country, which had crossed the centuries and still marked the China of today.

Strongly influenced by Asian cinema, I built my reportage as a series of cinematographic sequences, trying to express through my framing and chromatic approach, a miriad of spaces of freedom, far away from the single mindset still very vivid in this country.

It is by losing myself in the mysteries of a subliminal chinese city, both dreamed and fantasized, that I brought this imaginary trip to life.

François Fontaine

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— Japanese Whispers, 2008

Travelling to Japan was a childhood dream. I would observe on the walls of our house the Utamaro and Harunobu woodblock prints my father had brought back from a trip to Japan while working as a naval officer. Traveling there in 2008, I found myself in a very familiar place.

Throughout this trip, I had a vague feeling of indecision. Just like the Shoji – those silent sliding doors one finds in temples and traditional houses – plunged in a quiet and misty world.

The resemblance between people and nature was what I found the most striking. The ephemeral figures seen in bars of the Shinjuku area in Tokyo,

the frail silhouettes sliding in the backstreets of Gion, Kyoto, curiously resembled those from the wood prints of my childhood. As would the hybrids and fantastics shapes of the trees and bamboos in the gardens in Kanazawa and Kamakura.

The landscapes and places were tainted with an unsettling ghostly atmosphere. The daily gentle touching and rustling would resonate inside me like “whispers”. Japan, more than any other country, gave me the ultimate feeling of blending in nature and floating on clouds.

François Fontaine

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