Saint-Cloud 1923

This photograph of Saint-Cloud, was captured by Eugène Atget, and it’s as if he wasn’t just taking a picture, but gently coaxing an image into being. There's a tactile quality to it; a sort of holding, like clay in the hand. Look closely at the statue, at its muted tones, the light rendering form, the surface looking like cracked plaster. It’s all captured with such delicate precision, each detail brought into soft focus. The grapes, for example, look almost swollen, heavy with juice, promising a sense of ripe, sensual abundance. But Atget doesn't push for stark realism, instead he shows the potential of the subject, its inherent qualities. I find myself thinking about Corot, another artist who found beauty in the everyday. Both of them seem to have looked at the world not just to record it, but to find a kind of quiet, unspoken poetry. In the end, it’s not about what we see, but how we see it. And Atget, like all great artists, teaches us how to look again, with fresh eyes.