Etienne Clément’s intensely alluring and complex photographic works weave together two types of child’s play: the type that involves building structures and the type that builds stories.
Constructed like paintings in that they’re carefully composed to build a narrative, Clément’s works are a collage of toy figures, miniature magazines and false-modelled landscapes that sit in the foreground, set against a background - often a building, a landscape or a ruin - that consists of a photographic image that the artist has previously taken and used as a backdrop, as on a stage.
Clément’s play-mobile-esque ‘scenes’ always reference an event,…
Etienne Clément’s intensely alluring and complex photographic works weave together two types of child’s play: the type that involves building structures and the type that builds stories.
Constructed like paintings in that they’re carefully composed to build a narrative, Clément’s works are a collage of toy figures, miniature magazines and false-modelled landscapes that sit in the foreground, set against a background - often a building, a landscape or a ruin - that consists of a photographic image that the artist has previously taken and used as a backdrop, as on a stage.
Clément’s play-mobile-esque ‘scenes’ always reference an event, whether political, historical or biblical. Neglected objects, often recognisable from youth culture, are used to play down any romanticism that might be associated with art history and biblical allegory referenced in the scene.
Each piece in the ‘Wendy’s World’ series features a figure, Wendy, standing in the foreground, shadowy and blurred. Wendy is an artist, (perhaps Clément himself?), a voyeur; childish, naïve but un-shockable. Her ghostly presence draws our attention to our own position as the viewer and makes us think about the construction and depth of the photograph.
By using mass-produced, meaningless plastic miniatures as key figures to illustrate an historical event or narrative, Clément makes us question the element of truth. Somehow the event becomes less believable and more like a fictional story. In addition to this, the use of objects of popular culture brings these historical events into the present day, and illustrated in this way – being brought up to date so to speak - the authenticity of the narrative becomes questionable.
The figures emerging from the dirty puddle in La Vierge de Miséricorde look just like the chaotic detritus of a boyish game played out in the backyard. However, on more careful inspection we realise we are witnessing a biblical drama, with the Virgin Mary saving the animals and children from drowning. All of this takes place in Battersea power station, that most glorious of industrial fragments, with Wendy looking on, showing us only her incongruous baby blue bow.
From a slightly different angle, Vernissage is Clément’s post-modern comment on the art world, depicting a private view at an exhibition of works from the Wendy’s World series itself. This time Wendy stands slightly more into the frame, facing outwards towards the viewer, welcoming us into her exhibition (further evidence that Wendy is indeed Clément himself). Figures that star in the series stand viewing the piece that they themselves feature in, a statement about our obsession with self-image perhaps. In the centre of the room, more figurines mirror Matisse’s iconic painting The Dance and a character that looks like Barbie’s ‘Ken’ lurks on the outskirts of the party, all dressed up with nowhere to go - a comment on the exclusive and often un-welcoming social aspect of such events.
Clément was born in Paris and studied at La Sorbonne and Ecole du Louvre. He has shown his work in London, Paris and Germany and in 1997 won second prize in the European Architectural Photographer of the Year. He now lives and works in London and has a forthcoming exhibition at the V&A’s Museum of Childhood, February to April 2010.
