I'm part of the generation that knew how to insert film into cameras. 24 shots. 24 chances to immortalize on negative what we perceive, hoping with each click for a faithful representation of our vision. 24 presses on the shutter release, a precious countdown, diminishing with each stroke the possibilities of capturing the present moment forever. Each click becomes justified because it is limited. Then comes the waiting. A wait towards the unknown, towards hope, towards curiosity to see the result.

 

Technology having evolved over the years, it is now possible to photograph any subject as many times as desired. Instant results. The result, for many, is an over-accumulation of photographs, often similar to one another. Especially for self-portraits (or selfies). What's the point of keeping dozens of photos, whose only variation is a slight nod of the head, a raised shoulder, a deflected glance? So much choice surely leads to less value, doesn't it?

 

To validate my assumption, I decided to try the experiment. It was during a trip to New Orleans, in a park adorned with magnificent oak trees, that I decided to play the game. I leaned against a tree to take a series of selfies, the only difference being that the tree replaced me in the picture. Quickly, without thinking too much, I began a series of photos, slightly modifying the angle of the camera between each click. I enjoyed myself for some time, pressing the shutter release like a machine gun.

 

When I returned from vacation, I took the time to analyze this series of selfies. Surprisingly, to my eyes, they were all different. Each photograph had subtle variations, making them individually special and unique. With so many photographs to choose from, the idea came to me to create a triptych, because in the end I wasn't able to select just one.

 

...And yes, for your information, I have kept practically all the selfies!