Myriam Tangi
TIFA 2024 Interview with Myriam Tangi
2nd Place winner in Editorial, Professional, “Traces of War”
Q: What drew you to the specific genre of photography you specialize in? Was it a personal experience, a mentor, or something else that sparked your interest?
I don’t think I’m a “specialist”. I’m particularly fond of experimentation, whatever the technique. I like to deal with subjects in my environment. I received a solid “classical” training in drawing at the Beaux Arts de Paris. I use it in photography, as if to detach myself from it…..at the same time. This creates in me a constant balancing act in my gaze, in my desire to look at what surrounds me, and the resulting construction. Also, twenty years of experience of life with a photographer has enabled me to experiment and consolidate my own path, which was already germinating in my first steps, before.
Q: How do you approach a new photography project? Can you walk us through your creative process, from concept to execution?
I don’t pick up my camera (almost exclusively) until the project is born. It’s built up mentally first, gradually emerging in the unconscious. Reality is an infinite number of propositions at any given moment. So the questions are: what interests me in the project’s anticipated reality? What are the emotions and thoughts that move me in general and, more specifically, around the project? Among other things, this is what will “cut” the frame of my photos, with the aim of multiplying visions with as many angles and differences as possible. Like a musician composes, with themes and variations.
Q: Your winning project stood out to the jury for its unique perspective. How do you ensure your work maintains originality and authenticity in a competitive field?
In the “Traces of war” series, from October 7 onwards, I was shaken by cognitive ambivalences between the terrible violence of the attack this day, the incomprehensible security vacuum (hence the series’ subtitle: “Photography in resilience”), and then between what I was experiencing “calmly” where I was during the unfolding of the war in the south. I also had very little time to work on this photo essay.
A project, and probably this one in particular, is at first in inner turmoil for a while, a mix of emotions and questions, during which photographs begin to pop up here and there, but without the clear awareness of what links them together. Then one day, as if in an invisible alchemical crucible, “the” project emerges with such emotional clarity that it allows me to maintain my photographic vision for as long as is necessary to bring it to fruition. This moment of emergence is magical, fascinating, magnificently joyful.
Q: As a photographer, how do you balance technical expertise with artistic vision? Do you lean more heavily on one, or do they work hand in hand for you?
I have to admit that I try to keep technical issues to a minimum to minimize the time between vision and the photographic “click”. When the eye sees, the camera must already be ready. My many years of experience with black-and-white silver photography continue to guide me in this direction, and because of the limitation of the numbers of photographs. This technique requires a greater connection with the subject, given the limited number of photographs possible with film. The series presented here is, in a way, my first completed project in color digital…..
Q: What role does post-processing play in your work? Do you consider it an extension of your creativity, or do you aim to keep your images as natural as possible?
Just as a silver negative needs processing during development, digital photography obviously needs processing too. For me, the final result must be a subtle balance between the memory of the moment and the technical work that retains and reinforces the real “naturalness” captured.
Q: How do you stay inspired and motivated in an ever-evolving industry? Are there any specific sources—books, films, or other art forms—that fuel your creativity?
My original training as a painter, which I’m still pursuing, my practice of poetry (I’ve published three collections), my first documentary film: everything is a source of creativity, and all these fields interpenetrate in constant echoes. In this sense, I can say that I’m on a constant creative alert. I consider this state to be a blessing and a joy.
Q: Winning this award is a significant accomplishment. How do you plan to leverage this recognition to further your career or make a greater impact in the photography world?
Since my early days in multiple creativity, and whatever the technique, I’ve made a point of taking part in competitions by sending in works that’s already been completed. It’s a way of confronting them with the complex artistic universe that surrounds us. Each prize (numerous in all my creative fields) is an opportunity to build on this “impact”. The interest generated by the prizes won leads to interviews, articles, invitations to conferences and exhibitions.
Q: How do you approach connecting with your subjects, especially in projects that require a deep level of trust and intimacy, such as portraits or documentary work?
I’m extremely sensitive to the need to preserve, as far as possible, the privacy of the people photographed. That’s a subject in itself. I try to distinguish between the subject and the people involved. In the end, I’ll only keep photos that don’t harm them, as I see it, of course. If needed, if the photo seems essential, I’ll ask for permission to publish it. This concern comes maybe, for the formal aspect, from my pictorial approach, which lies somewhere between figuration and abstraction, but with a specific, radical stake in the “real” that is inseparable from photography, a moral dimension.
Q: In what ways do you believe photography can influence societal change? Have you worked on projects that aim to raise awareness or advocate for a cause?
Photography is not just a mirror of reality. I produced, exhibited and published a photographic project (“Mehitza. Seen by woman”) in which I questioned the notion of distance and separation in the synagogue space. In it, I raised the issue of women’s place within this space, and its extension outside it. My photographic concern was not the “documentation” of the infinite varieties of separation, but how this separation influences the relationship between men and women, with its necessities (to think about) and its limits of application. When I began this project twenty years ago, most people regarded it as incidental, since it had never been questioned in its multiple forms for two thousand years. Today, it’s being addressed, in many different ways. I’ve also done series on migrants in Paris, and people sleeping in the streets, but although they’ve won awards, they haven’t yet been published.
Q: What advice would you give to photographers about finding their unique voice in a crowded industry? How can they stay true to their vision while appealing to a broader audience?
The heart of creativity is inner necessity. This is the ultimate, intimate crucible of reference. The deeper and more sincere the self-exploration (nourished by life itself and all its cultural aspects, even unconsciously), the more unique is the project. It is this dimension that is universal in itself.
