Fleeting Moments

Stephen Whelan is haunted by Bruno Aveillan's elusive meanings and unforgettable evocations of memory

"The recurring theme could very well be that of wandering, of traces, and above all of memory." So says French photographer Bruno Aveilian of his latest collection of work, Diotopes. Rejecting the over-determined precision of digital photography, Aveilian shoots direct to film in order to capture fragmented and emotionally driven "mental panorama" deliberately devoid of prescribed meanings.

The assorted images gathered in Diotopes eschew representation and illustration in favour of an abstraction that blends light and location into a seamless and uncertain whole. The effect is simultaneously fantastical and evocative; the images come to life as haunted moments that pass fleeting by the viewer, departing as soon as they emerge.

"Mnemonic acquisition, such as memories, are linked to their context and are therefore incredibly selective," embellishes Aveilian. "Information that lacks a certain affective or emotional context does not get memorised so the idea that we might be able to search our memories with any precision remains rather pointless."

Drawing on atmospheres and subjective instincts, Aveilian's work buzzes with a magnetic resonance, an energy that suggests the subject's inevitable movement from the static present to a past retreating from vision. "There is certainly a visual pattern, a sort of specific identity, which ties this collection together; a certain way of drawing with light that obstructs landscapes and people from view until finally only emotion can act as a guide. I am utterly convinced that in order that a work of art provoke an emotional echo in the public, it must suggest rather than show."

Also at play in Aveilian's work is an attempt to find space in the modern world to re-activate an unmediated engagement with our surroundings. In an age that fetishises the aerial photography of the internet, Diotopes is an invitation to get closer, to look again, but not for the sake of precision.

"When I'm asked if there is an anti-technological impulse in my work I have to admit that the idea is indeed rather tempting and tallies my own personal concerns. Today more than ever it appears to me necessary and indeed healthy to advocate what is random, what is reactive, as an alternative to the prevailing view that the world be viewed as accurately as possible. This doesn't mean refusing progress, but rather proposing spaces of uncertainty which would allow one's mind to regain the pictorial object."