Posts Tagged: Family history

Father’s Day

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Papa

Aujourd’hui, c’est le quatre-vingt quinzième anniversaire de la naissance de mon père, Pierre Krebs. Quand le 8 mai est un dimanche, c’est la Sainte Jeanne d’Arc et le 8 mai 1921 était un dimanche, comme aujourd’hui. Mon père était content d’être née le jour qui commémorait Jeanne d’Arc.

Le jour de son 24eme anniversaire l’armistice en Europe était signée, il était un très jeune officier de la Légion d’Honneur.

A la fin de sa vie, il n’aimait plus beaucoup les anniversaires, mais aujourd’hui on aurait pu lui faire plaisir en lui rappelant que c’était encore une fois la Sainte Jeanne d’Arc.

A mon père…

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mon père Pierre et sa sœur Elisabeth

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Mon père dessiné par sa sœur Françoise

Don’t look for, just look

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Comment aimer un enfant - Janucz Korczak.

Sometimes the title of a book is what interests us, we tell ourselves we will read the book, we start...
not always at the beginning but we drop it.
We keep the book in a good place for months, for years and we feel a little guilty because the book has not been read.

Maybe it need not be read: the title is enough to set our thinking, to express our desire and somewhere in ourselves we do the rest.

The rare pleasure of a “real” letter

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Today a letter arrived on the door mat, a real letter. The envelope looked as if it had been under severe weather or dropped in a puddle. Inside it was rather extraordinary, difficult to say what was a result of the elements and what had been colourful from the start!
There was a photo printed on the letter and it now looks more like an old photo coloured by hand, the colours having taken the freedom to make a rainbow all over the letter. Rainbow? A letter from the Gods? Almost, a letter from an uncle and aunt I like very much but last saw in the 80ies. They are quite old now and quite well! and every word of the letter is readable!

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Women’s day

À la magicienne

At the Woman-Magician’s

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This is a poem inspired by a corset lace I found in my great-aunt’s attic never used with the price still on it. The brand name is “At the magician’s” (magician in the feminine).

À la magicienne
Un corset
Un lacet
De quelle magie parlons-nous ?
De quelle magicienne ?

De celle qui opprime
Déprime
Contraint
Astreint
Ou de celle qui embellit
Affermit
Définit
Enrichit.

C'est peut-être un choix
A chaque fois
Savoir combien
Quel équilibre
On s'astreint
On retient ou on est libre.

At the Woman-Magician’s
A corset
Its lace
Which magic are we talking about?
Which She-magician?

The one who oppresses
Depresses
Constrains
Restrains
Or the one who gives beauty
Tightens
Strengthens
Defines

It may be a choice
Each time
To find the balance
Between
How much one controls
Or one lets breathe

This poem is part of the book To be a Woman which you can have a look at Here.

PRAY FOR PARIS

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The city we love to "teach" our children

Exhibition 2015 – Reflections

I approached the theme of the exhibition in three different ways:
A reflection on passing from Life to Death as both my parents died this summer
A question : Was the naming of the planets a reflection of man’s observation of himself, or does each man/woman reflect all the planets?
Looking for reflections of light and objects, I also found a reflection of a dream I had had ten years previously.

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Reflection on passing from Life to Death

Both my parents died this summer. My mother, unconscious in the last days of her life, seemed to draw from her own source but she also seemed anxious. To my eye, her hands shaped a question mark.
My father, also unconscious, held the hand we gave him with surprising force. There was a strong sense of communication, of receiving and passing on.

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Vigil as dusk is reflecting on the table

Reflecting the Planets?

Is there a set of qualities that can be described very powerfully with the name of one planet?
Could I make ten self-portraits, one to reflect each of the planets?

Click on the cover to see a preview (the photos are a little distorted)

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Too desirable Madam? or HRO IN(2015)

More than ten years ago, I had a dream in which my family was robbing a bank, looking for a treasure in underground passages; it felt half-heroic, half-dishonest. A man stood up and died. Then a young woman and I had to hide in a flat and as we were trying to enter unnoticed a small crowd was looking at a yellow sports car. As I was describing this dream in the following days, I was asked what that yellow sports car could represent. More than one idea came to mind. After this dream whenever I saw a yellow sports car I was reminded of the dream and thought of a more showy, more visible part of me, and why not?
In May 2015, I had to collect my passport from South Kensington and saw this car in a showroom window. As I was trying to photograph it without my reflection the woman on the photograph said goodbye to the man and turned; she must have seen me and this was her reaction.
It is only when I was working on printing it that my friend Peter commented on the number plate. The name of the showroom is
H.R. Owen but of course it could be heroin or heroine.

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Wedding anniversary : the bride and the camera

Twenty six years ago today, our wedding. I am showing my brother how to use my precious Contax 139 Quartz while my sister Sophie is using hers!

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photo Sophie Lanternier

 

Unnamed

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10 weeks after my mother, my father died.

They had first met, 91 years ago, aged a few months and 3 years old.