Les Nuits Fauves
If creating categories has always made no sense, less so in our historical period. to get close to’Les Nuits Fauves’ Carolina Lopez’s work needs to be free from any artistic and social prejudice. Her work requires complete 360-degree immersion in a world that represents my discovery. When I first saw these photos at the Milan artist-in-residence, chatting and drinking tea, I was stunned. At that moment, I realized that I knew nothing about the world. What struck me at first was the strong and angry colors, and the body dressed so loudly.
What is this about? Reportage? Social Survey? portrait? Does it really matter? What matters is the result, immersed in those colorful images that are mostly bland, powerful, extreme, and sometimes vulgar.
where are we? Budapest, Prague, Milan, Paris, Los Angeles. Images come with captions, it doesn’t really matter where they are located geographically. Every photo starts with a more or less fatal attraction. Carolina went to several parties, people invited her, and she was invited. She gets there with her camera, and she hints at herself entering the web of those she likes, where she feels very comfortable. Burlesque, striptease, possibly feigned happiness, so-called sadness. Every photo of her exudes an air of anger, grotesque, raucousness. It’s like those pictures that are full of detail, full of triggers, and even able to convey the deafening sound of those places.
It would be a mistake to think of Carolina as a simple observer: She takes pictures from the perspective of her peers, from the protagonists of those parties. In this sense, her work is special and surreal.
Her attitude was more like that of Nan Goldin than that of Martin Parr.her night is fauvism, Wilderness. She looks like an insider, very engaged. “Anti-journalist” look. Like when she photographed women in Istanbul from behind. Of course, in that case, she doesn’t belong in that world, but her interest is arguably not a documentary type interest. Then there’s Berlin, where she lived for a year and a half and raved about the nightlife there.
Every place is different and recognizable to some extent. More sophisticated in Paris, gorgeous in Eastern European countries, and stylish in Milan, where Carolina enjoys the many parties in the fashion world.
Carolina is keen on these events, which somehow evokes Tramacho The style described by Petronius in his work Satirica Two thousand years ago, this moral depravity was brought to life in the films of Italian directors Federico Fellini and Pierre Paolo Pasolini. It’s an otherworldly world, with the same outrageous overtones, Compare, photo by Carolina. She witnesses a society without apparent grief, in the words of the philosopher Han Bingzhe. She witnesses a world where grief becomes dull and numb to pretend it doesn’t exist. A narcissistic world, a group of people who have undergone plastic surgery, dress up and don’t accept death, yet in the pompous porn scene, death dominates. «I look at very superficial environments, dominated by consumerism, however I deconstruct these environments with my very personal way of looking at things. I create fragmented and very close-up views »[1].
Some of the images are outdoor images, mostly taken in Las Vegas, where people, especially women, are walking down the street almost naked and completely hairless. No one turns to look at them, we can find the same naturalness in Carolina’s eyes, she’s used to those worlds.
Her work is strongly influenced by her education. She studied painting in Colombia, her country of origin, and later moved to Italy, to Florence, where she continued to study painting at the Academy of Fine Arts. Her use and use of strong colors brought her back to her original culture, and she painted portraits and landscapes. At that time, she began to study photography at the International Academy of Art of Santa Reparata in Florence.
Moderation is less important than the ending, but Carolina seems to have metabolized all her past experiences to come up with this powerful and somewhat brave series, even depicting herself in some images.
Her Latin American culture and distinct personality are evident in each of her photos, making her stand out in the work environment. In this sense, her work is unique and special. The difference is in her perspective. Carolina is the observer of the image, a curious woman who sneaks into the event.
The protagonists of almost all of her photographs are women; their faces are usually not shown in the pictures, or if they are, they are not recognizable. They are night escapes, escapes from existence.
I’ve written before that her observations are from within, but at the same time, we seem to be facing some kind of social biopsy, some small coring samples, to look for details that can represent the whole.In many such photos, we can grab punctureto quote Roland Barthes, it penetrates our imagination, our appearance, it captures our attention and influences our reading: the straps of a corset, the detail of a bodysuit, a piece that does not A fantasy of possible dresses.
It’s interesting to hear her describe the way she works: «If I hear about an event that interests me, I try to interact with the organizers and ask them if they can shoot freely. I was never told no. In general, everyone in that world is happy to show off, happy to be shot. If it bothers them, they just tell me I don’t take any pictures. Many of the participants were friends, or they became friends in time, others were nighttime entertainment professionals. Women love being photographed by me because they love the way I see their feminine nature and how I translate that into an image.I assure them that I am not voyeur. Some of them even offered to pose for me »[2]. Dialogue, dialogue precedes every shot. Carolina doesn’t want to steal anything.
she was impressed Mises, catsuit, gloves, pantyhose, brings her back to other scenes, sometimes picturesque, sometimes evoking the sadomasochistic world of Robert Mapplethorpe, a very respected artist, but also has Some kind of old Japanese art, a kind of eroticism of a fluctuating world. Here, too, the body fluctuates, but doesn’t necessarily understand their behavior.
As I’ve written, people often refer to the grotesque aspect of burlesque, a genre of art that originated in 19th-century England.th Century, now fashionable in our society, consists of excesses, selfies, and narcissism of all kinds. This is the will to amaze, and Carolina loves to be amazed.
Most of her subjects are young women, but there are also outdated women whose makeup is almost always excessive, taking the opportunity to shoot. Sexual references are numerous. The photos depict very few men, and some transgender people. The spontaneity with which the Colombian artist handles any situation is fascinating: moral judgments never arise, even when dealing with the most uncomfortable situations. No comic intent, even though the world might fit it.
I wanted to learn more about the world I knew nothing about and the world I saw in her pictures. Why do people participate in these events? Are they having fun? Everything seems so far away from me. This is my first time looking at these types of images. This explanation is much deeper than it seems. People go to these events because they’re drawn to fashion, organizing their characters, maybe to tell everyone about it, and take some selfies.
Pierre Choderlos de Laclos and his 18th century “dangerous relations” are not far off. The only difference is that the environment here is more democratic, at least on the surface. Being in these places is evidence of being in a world many seek, at the cost of exposing yourself to ridicule. But does it still matter?
In one photo, an ass worthy of an eighties-inspired lingerie ad is shown. Without Photoshop editing, everything is natural, even if the subject is an underage girl whose job is to spend the night in the square for people to admire and take pictures. She’s the Playboy Rabbit. I want to cry. So sad.
Not to mention the Milan Gay Club, where gays and lesbians are more beautiful than ever. We are throwing out the hateful stereotypes of a few years ago. Libido is fluid, and it fluctuates too. So why do we need to define gender? Just like in art.
Angela Madsani
