Renowned photographer Bernard Plossu is presenting a unique perspective of Spain through his latest exhibition at the Ombres Blanches gallery in Toulouse, offering viewers an unprecedented glimpse into a country he considers his second homeland. The acclaimed wandering photographer, best known for his black and white work but equally passionate about color photography, is showcasing 110 images using the rare Fresson printing process in a new space at the Ombres Blanches bookstore.
The Fresson printing technique, named after the family who developed it, provides unparalleled color reproduction and longevity. This specialized process has become increasingly rare, with the current generation representing the last practitioners of this historic photographic method.
In an extensive interview, Plossu discussed his artistic philosophy and relationship with both photography and Spain. When asked about his preference for books over exhibitions, the photographer was clear about his priorities. "Yes, that's true," Plossu confirmed. "Usually, books accompany exhibitions, and for me, it's the opposite; exhibitions must accompany the book, that's clear. For books, I know what I have to say. When creating a model, the photographer is in the best position to know which photo goes with which, to find the magic in the opposites, like a painter knows when to use green or red."
Plossu expressed particular fondness for smaller publications, noting that while the press often focuses on his larger works, he prefers smaller books because "they are manifestos." Despite this book-centric approach, he acknowledges exhibitions as "a way of communicating with people," though he emphasizes the political nature of display choices. "Even if a photograph is merely poetic, the act of showing it is political; the choice to show it is a political gesture, whether we like it or not," he explained.
The photographer's contemplative approach to his work stands in stark contrast to today's fast-paced world. When questioned about this seemingly subversive stance, Plossu acknowledged the contemplative nature of his photography, attributing it to his generation's engagement with Eastern philosophy. "In my generation, we were all about Krishnamurti (the Indian thinker of alternative education), Zen, and all that. Having read all those books, I think it made an impression on me," he said.
Plossu is adamant that his photographs should not tend toward aestheticism, considering it a grave error when someone says his work "looks like a painting." However, he distinguishes this from his use of Fresson prints, which some have compared to pictorialism. As art critic Jeanne Fouchet-Nahas noted in her analysis: "It's not for pictorialist reasons that Plossu loves this process so much, but for poetic reasons. Fresson prints have sometimes been wrongly compared to the autochromes of Heinrich Kühn, one of the greats of 20th-century pictorialism, whose quest was for a formal perfection that has nothing to do with Plossu, who is careful not to create beauty."
The photographer's relationship with color photography began through an unexpected partnership with Kodak, who provided him with a small Stretch Panoramic camera. Initially, the large, classic prints decorated Kodak showrooms, but Plossu later used those color negatives to create black and white prints of his travel photographs.
Plossu has worked with all three generations of the Fresson family: grandfather, father, and the current practitioner, who plans to end the business. "He's the last one, and he has no descendants," Plossu explained. "It would take a young person to convince him to pass it on, because only he knows the process and possesses the equipment and the know-how."
The photographer shared an amusing anecdote about declining a prestigious French honor, the Chevalier des Arts et Lettres medal, and instead recommending the Fresson family for the recognition. "I immediately refused, and the guy on the phone burst out laughing and asked me who to give it to. I told him: the Fressons!" The Fresson family also declined the honor, maintaining their characteristic independence.
Concerned about speculation in the art market, particularly as Fresson prints become increasingly rare, Plossu has asked galleries to sell his photographs only to genuine enthusiasts and in small quantities of four or five pieces. "Recently, someone wanted to buy 25 of them from me; I understood their intention," he noted.
Plossu's technical approach remains deliberately simple. Working primarily with a Nikkormat camera and 50mm lens, he formerly carried two cameras – one loaded with black and white film, the other with color. His typical ratio was eight rolls of black and white to two rolls of color out of every ten rolls shot. Age has forced some modifications to this system, as the cameras have become too heavy to carry multiple bodies, requiring him to alternate films as needed.
The photographer remains deliberately resistant to technological advancement, stating he knows only "the bare minimum of technique needed to take photos" and works largely by intuition. This extends to his rejection of digital photography, which he believes undermines the discipline necessary for creative work. "With digital, you quickly take 600, 800 photos on a memory card, and I believe that you need rigor to create. You can't take 600 photos and choose two; it's unhealthy," he argued.
Plossu's interest in what he calls "the intensity of banality" reflects his unique photographic vision. "Everyone sees their own," he explained. "I don't necessarily look for it, but all of a sudden, I see a garage door I like. It's not particularly beautiful, but I take a picture of it. Photography is what allows you to take a picture of a garage door. That's a new definition of photography." He describes this recognition of banality as obvious and immediate: "it falls on you."
This constant state of photographic awareness extends beyond his camera work. "After a while, you can't not see. Even without a camera, I'm in photographic vision, all the time, from the time I wake up to the time I go to bed," Plossu revealed. Far from finding this exhausting, he considers it perpetually interesting and a way to "live intensely; you never get bored for a second."
However, this intense interest in everyday subjects has occasionally caused problems. Plossu now carries maps or plans when traveling to appear more like a typical tourist, after being questioned by police in both the United States and Portugal about his photographic activities in an era of increased suspicion.
When discussing the physical qualities of analog photography, Plossu spoke poetically about "the thickness of time in the grain of a photo," describing it as "the matte aspect, the weight of time" – concepts he admits are difficult to articulate fully.
For Plossu, photography's ultimate purpose is sharing, serving to "satisfy a need, to create things with strong lines." He emphasizes that "there's no philosophy there; it's purely a visual pleasure." His artistic influences extend beyond photography to include painting, particularly Italian painting, and Italian literature, which comprises three-quarters of his personal library.
Looking ahead, Plossu has several projects in development. He's planning an exhibition focused entirely on Italy titled "Homage to Italy," reflecting his deep connection to Italian culture. This fall, he'll collaborate with Spanish painter Marcelo Fuentes on a show at the Olula Museum in southern Spain. Additionally, Marval-RueVisconti will publish "Entre les livres" (Among the Books) in February, a 300-page retrospective featuring all the books he's created throughout his career – a project that holds particular significance for the photographer.
The current exhibition "España en Fresson" runs at the Ombres Blanches gallery in Toulouse from July 4 to September 6, 2025, offering viewers a rare opportunity to experience both Plossu's unique vision of Spain and the increasingly rare Fresson printing process that brings his color photographs to life with unmatched depth and permanence.
