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• Philippe Rahmy is a writer, born in Geneva/Switzerland (1975). He studied Literature and Philosophy in Lausanne, Egyptology and Arts in Paris. He is part of the staff of remue.net, a literary site in France. He published two books of poetry in prose at Cheyne Editor (2005 & 2007) in France and two experimental texts, at publie.net, an internet publishing compagny of contemporary literature. His first book has been translated into Italian by Monica Pavani and was published this year in Italy (Mobydick). The english translation (by Rosemary H. Lloyd) and the german version (by Tanja Weber) are currently seeking for an editor.
"The glory of the body" series is part of my large scale multimedia project called COMPLEX_SIMPLEX and started current 2008. This photographic work is exploring the question of physical normality, opening a field of experimentations in which the body, as well as the picture, are facing the standards of beauty and of technique: trying to translate physical disgrace and technical poverty into a figure we can share, and love.
Humanism told us that "Man is the measure of all things", but when man is
measured by science, by
religion, or by politics, he is experiencing his own negation by the so-called
standards of the society. Does the human body fit with the concept of
normality? Certainly not. Acting as critic and demystifier of Beauty, my
photographic work stands for the acceptance of minorities, and for social
justice.
As a so-called "disabled person", I want to show how an apparently very singular body is just everyman's body.
PhR 2008
• à propos de la série photo "The Glory of th Body" :
Je n’ai pas d’autre ambition que celle de témoigner : non pas dire la vérité, mais nommer ce qui me rend l’égal des autres. La précision de ce témoignage devra être poussée si loin qu’elle finira par révéler l’immense banalité de chaque vie, et le rapport d’équivalence qui superpose les existences comme des chablons de même forme et de même taille. Si nous mourons, c’est de nous croire singuliers et de tout faire pour entretenir l’illusion de nos identités… Lorsque le corps ne sera plus sujet d’étonnement, chaque individu affrontera sa mort en tant que foule, et remportera sur elle une victoire définitive.
PhR 2008
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I have gone out, a possessed witch, haunting the black air, braver at night; dreaming evil, I have done my hitch over the plain houses, light by light: lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind. A woman like that is not a woman, quite. I have been her kind.
I have found the warm caves in the woods, filled them with skillets, carvings, shelves, closets, silks, innumerable goods; fixed the suppers for the worms and the elves: whining, rearranging the disaligned. A woman like that is misunderstood. I have been her kind.
I have ridden in your cart, driver, waved my nude arms at villages going by, learning the last bright routes, survivor where your flames still bite my thigh and my ribs crack where your wheels wind. A woman like that is not ashamed to die. I have been her kind.
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