Albin Brassart

"I'm talking to you about a country that doesn't exist..."
A Land, both diary and road book, exploration notebook and photo album.
A Land, a poetic journey, a journey of images, a journey in the images, a journey in the assembly of the images themselves.
Where the intimate rubs shoulders with the real, the very near rubs shoulders with the distant, the known mingles with the unknown.
A Land, a series that relates my search for an acceptable place, a place to live, a place that I would recognize as mine. From a fantasy country, from an ideal place, from my ideal place.
A set of micro-fictions, pieces of scattered puzzles to reconstitute a geographical map and a great story that mixes intimacy, ethnography, architecture as well as sociology.
A Land, a cinematic variation of photography like fragments of a life reimagined from the window of a moving train. The images intersect and signal to each other, we go from the second-hand shop to the laboratory of the archaeologist, from the exploration of the real to that of the imaginary, and from the past to the future.
As I walked, as I wandered here and there, I would be happy that the reader-visitor also walks in this series as in his personal cartography where his memories and his experiences would find an echo there.

My approach and my artistic work are sensitively on the side of the intimate, of the human link with nature and its environment, of reality and fiction intertwined, and of the dialogue between images in the form of visual collages.
I also allow myself to change cameras according to my desire of the moment, be it film or digital, Holga, Horizon 202, Mamiya C330, Lubitel, Canon EOS 60D, Minox 35 GT, Polaroid SX-70, Pinhole camera, Lomo LC-A. 

Rather than privileging the individual image, I am very interested in playing with images. Through diptychs and triptychs, I seek an escape to a reinterpreted territory, a suspended time, a space where your memories and experiences would find an echo. My approach to the places and people I photograph is instinctive. 

I let myself be carried away, I try in any case to achieve this state of mind and openness of gaze towards the other. To allow myself to wander here and there, to let myself be carried away by the wind, the ardor, by an indefinable sensation, a hazardous impression or even a revelation. 

And my images are often steeped in melancholy, loneliness, and feelings of restlessness and loss. 

For me, photography is the synthesis between the representation of reality and the ability to transcend it. It's going back again and again to the same places like a sort of detective and looking for proof, evidence of one's own involvement in this great fresco that is existence.