My final days in the Pyrenees were spent finishing my installation. In my original communication with Jonathan and Helen I had discussed many different ideas that might convince them and me to take on this project. The idea that got both sides most excited was to create an installation that could be permanently exhibited on the land surrounding the chalet. I intended to light and photograph an area of land, which would be determined when I arrived, building a frame for the resulting image. The frame would need to withstand the turbulent winters experienced in that part of the world, so it would need to be weatherproofed, whilst remaining aesthetically appealing. My idea was for the resulting image to be installed at the exact spot at which it was photographed. This idea was intended to engage the viewer with a view that remained, and an ephemeral one, that had been documented and presented in contrast to the present. In this way my work takes on a less anonymous guise; no longer plucked out from an unknown and forgotten location, the image stands directly in front of its subject, its inspiration if you like. The viewer is encouraged to look for change and similarity between both views and is allowed to see the transformation that took place with a more informed perspective. The image therefore speaks of change, of aesthetic appreciation for both the scene and its image, and like every photograph, the past.
Nothing much changed from those original thoughts; therefore the result was not overly surprising. I completed the piece the evening before I left France, and therefore I was unable to spend some time with it and really access how successful it was. My own niggling insecurities about the image are most likely influenced by my need to move on and produce something new, something detached from the work I have been doing for the past two years. What the image does represent for me is a more positive outlook. It’s as enthusiastically bright as it is dark. And although the colours are bright, and the contrast between light and dark still shine through, it’s a somewhat quieter image to my previous work. For me, it’s a piece for contemplation, and hopefully this is partly what it will represent for those who will now live with it.
I’d like to thank Jonathan and Helen and their two children Louis and Emilie for inviting me into their little corner of the world and sharing the experiences of the past weeks, and to all those I met along the way that made this experience memorable and worthwhile.
—Peter Watkins
