Life on EDGE: Memory, Culture, and Authenticity in the Photography of Renaud Castaing
Renaud Castaing is a French photographer whose work challenges and invites. His long-form travelogue, EDGE, spans nearly a generation, taking viewers on an odyssey of cultural experience, change and exchange, where the link between the lived-through reality of the past and the ever-present memory of the future is a now contained within the image itself.
When I first read EDGE, I was intrigued but also overwhelmed: intrigued by its vibrant use of color, the variety of countries and peoples represented, and by Renaud’s careful attention to composition; yet, EDGE is also a sensory rush, where flipping through the book became an exercise of my senses and sensibilities, as I searched for an internal logic to its pages. I went back and forth within the book, like a historian might go through a stack of archives or an archeologist might sort out a spread of artifacts. The discovery I made with EDGE is its intensity and its flow, neither of which are immediately defined in whole, as much as they are defined as, and propelled by, a kinetic sum of its parts.
I spoke with Renaud on August 3 via Google to gather some context for EDGE, share my impressions I had of his work (a connection with Chris Marker, particularly the film Sans Soleil came to my mind) and to entertain my initial thoughts regarding the book. Below is a follow-up that offers a closer look at what it means to travel, and what it means to do photography, especially in an age where everyone is now virtually a photographer and everything virtually a photograph. Speaking with the wisdom of one who is well-traveled yet humble enough to resist easy or simple answers, Renaud provides practical insights to reveal the task of “painting with light” as still a matter of the heart and the (mind’s) eye.
Interview with Renaud Castaing
Kevin Baylon — EDGE is acronym meaning “Experiencing Dynamic Glances of an Epoch.” In our previous conversation, you explain this “epoch” refers to a very specific point in time, when you started this project and began traveling abroad, and also when the worldwide transition to the internet was in full swing. How are we as viewers able to look “forward” in time with this work, in addition to being able to look “backward,” as in the historical, archival sense of “epoch”? Or does EDGE belong to a space that is neither the past nor the future?
Renaud Castaing — Thank you for this very interesting question. Given the structure of EDGE, I'd lean more towards the second possibility. It’s precisely the accumulation of pairs, the accumulation of juxtapositions of photos from this period of transition that makes it a message that is timeless, or rather vitrified. This raises two questions: first, about the impact of the internet on the interest of images to be taken when traveling, but also about the fundamentally solid and powerful elements that are irremovable in different cultures and in the simplicity of travel. I believe the answers to these questions are timeless. I would say that ultimately EDGE belongs to a space that is neither in the past nor in the future.
How has your memory and perception of the places you lived in and experienced changed since photographing them?
The places and situations photographed are, by definition, “frozen” and as such offer a form of symbolism to the situation captured. As a result, I would say that they have evolved, gaining strength and meaning over time and in juxtaposition with other places. They have also enabled me to remember things that have already changed radically in a short space of time, while retaining an important cultural aspect. In the end, they became milestones, like the dots you connect when you're a child to finally discover a form, an obviousness. Together they form my experience and my position, which led to the creation of EDGE.
Culture is an important theme in EDGE, and you mentioned viewers can engage with this work through comparison and contrast. That said, your punctum-like inclusion of a few animal images strikes a particular note. What kind of cultural, thematic or personal resonance do these images of animals hold when compared with the rest of the book?
There are two or three [animals which] is quite marginal, but they are useful [because] they respond to the EDGE postulate: They bear witness to the transition I mentioned earlier. [These animals] are part of the ‘cultural banality’ that stems from this period and are victims of it as well. It’s important to remember that this is not just a problem of representation, but a far-reaching transition. As such, animals, like buildings and landscapes, have their place in this observation and therefore in this project.
Portraiture is another major focus in this work, and there is a certain poetry that runs through EDGE, especially in your treatment of the human form, real or as depicted through print and media. In your mind, what is the relationship between intimacy and authenticity within this book? How important is this relationship when traveling, when one is immersed in a culture and place not their own?
In this project, it is of course essential that portraits are present, but not too many and always with a certain distance. [For example,] the young Burmese girl who is preparing thanaka to smear on herself was a little girl I knew well at the time. I knew her family [and] saw them again a year later. So I have several photos that express a closer bond [such as this]. But, in this project, intimacy and authenticity are accompanied by the hindsight of the traveler witness, not the ingenuous tourist. [EDGE is] a work of observation through aesthetics, and no doubt the poetry you see comes from that. When you take photos, it's a good idea to keep a distance and capture the intimacy of the moment, which offers its own cultural mark and also adds to the observation of the ‘cultural banality’ at work.
Which country was the most difficult to shoot in and why? What approaches did you take to facilitate shooting, and in what ways did shooting become easier over time?
I would say that it's certain situations that are easier or more complicated to take photos [more so than the countries themselves]. Some countries are very harsh in terms of daily life and oppression, which makes it easier to take photos, whereas some countries with a reputation for being ‘photogenic’ can become complicated. This is a reality of EDGE. For example, EDGE was exhibited in Japan and contains several shots of maikos from the Gion area. Japanese people who saw the exhibition were astonished to see these photos because today it is difficult, if not forbidden, to take photos of maiko. [In contrast] it's quite easy to take photos of young people in Bangladesh, for example. Each time, it's about a situation, and there's no other technique than walking, a lot, sometimes for hours on end, in different parts of the world, to capture moments. To come back to the maikos, I only take pictures of the street, a taxi, an apparition in front of me, and not the other way around. I'm not looking for an image. I'm not looking for an image, unlike today where people want to have a certain image as a trophy. There are several reasons for that, but that's another debate.
What compels you to pursue the image and engage your subjects further? How do you know when to take a step back from a person or situation, or to even walk away?
Renaud Castaing — It's a feeling. If the moment is too intimate, it belongs only to the moment or the context. Conversely, even if everything is there, [but] there's no photographic interest, then it's pointless. It's a question of respect. Towards the subject, and towards yourself.
You described your editing process for this book as organizing the photos into pairs. How did the exhibition for EDGE compare to its book version in regards to sequencing? Did you similarly present the images in pairs, or were the photos for the exhibition shown differently?
No, the book is really the exhibition catalogue. In terms of the order of the pairs, there really isn't one, so you don't see the pairs in the order of the pages of the book, but rather in an order that corresponds to the place and the route it proposes.
In what ways has technology changed the way you see things? In the way you photograph things? How has time changed the way you see and photograph things?
I’d say that technology in itself hasn't changed my way of seeing things, but it has enabled me to distinguish between technology and authenticity. In photography, technology, like everywhere else, has meant more quantity, better quality (in terms of the definition of the images), and a higher frequency of production that is accessible to everyone. Perhaps also the possibility of gaining access to views that were previously impossible [as] with drones. [However, if] you say to yourself that it's technology that makes photography beautiful and that beauty is the point of photography, which in my opinion is false (at least in part), it doesn't give you a message in your work. And that's exactly what we're seeing with EDGE. In fact, some of the photos date from 2005, others from 2023. All were taken with different technologies, cameras, and lenses, but the message and style remain the same, with the same poetic coherence. Then there's the impact of the internet, which has enabled me to get in touch with people all over the world and set up EDGE.
According to the narrator in the film Sans Soleil, remembering “is not the opposite of forgetting but rather its lining.” How—if at all—does EDGE speak to this notion of memory as essentially imperfect, subject to loss, change or revision after the fact? What do you believe is your role and responsibility as a photographer in capturing and sharing memories?
Thank you for your parallel with Sans Soleil. I think that EDGE fits in with this quote, in the sense that it helps us to remember, not in a militant way, in the face of oblivion, but by adding to this fatal reality the need to remember, in a poetic, subjective sense, while retaining an objective notion in the sense of bearing witness. Once the photographer knows that they are going to express something in their work, they have the responsibility of generating a reaction. Not conflict, not plebiscite, but reaction. Photographers are never totally hated or entirely loved in everything they produce, but we recognize the strength of the reactions they generate. It's best if these reactions lead to constructive reflection and action.
Finally, what advice would you give to those who love photography, and want to travel abroad as you have for their photographic work?
I [would] tell them that before concluding that they love photography and traveling, they should ask themselves what they'd like to express around these subjects, because more or less everyone will tell you that they like taking photos. As for me, I had a thirst for seeing different aspects of the world when I was young and I wanted to make a record of it that was close to my sensibility and my artistic expression. Now that I'm less young and have realized this, my desire is evolving. Today, the definition of travel, its feasibility, its ethics too, whether social or ecological, remains just as much in question as the desire or need to make expressive photography. It's not a question of putting pressure on yourself, but just because things are accessible doesn't mean they have to be done. So my advice would be [to ask yourself]: what is it about traveling and taking photographs that will make you express something essential?
Edge by French photographer Renaud Castaing is a compelling photobook that encapsulates a quarter-century of global travel, capturing the silent violence and elegant poetry inherent in disparate cultures. This collection of monochrome and color photographs forms a dynamic mosaic, linking disparate scenes from around the world to highlight the common threads of humanity. By juxtaposing images from different times and places, Edge challenges viewers to reflect on the nature of difference, culture, and the human condition. Castaing’s work transcends technical prowess, revealing a world intricately connected and ripe for collective conversation, as each image echoes another, binding cultures through a shared visual dialogue.