Approximately twenty images, each measuring 230 by 150 cm, form a circle in the gallery. They are all edited photographs of plants, which are technically precise yet visually denatured. Suzanne Lafont’s process involves using a light table to blow the image up, and crop each flower or leaf. Chromatic adjustments further enhance their masterful metamorphosis. Brief notes accompany each photograph.
A central panel presents the following question: And you, dear plant, what are you made of? to which each image offers a concise answer. Contrary to traditional botanical illustration, the text does not state the image’s scientific name. Instead, it lists only one of the plant’s components and one of its derivatives, most often industrial in nature.
Lafont’s long-standing interest in photography and its ability to fictionalize is evident here. It is both a technical activity that requires precision, and an unpredictable experiment with light. Directed, cropped, serialized, staged, inhabited by characters, the world she describes does not reflect our own; it rebuilds it with caustic humour. Underneath ornamental décor, the dysfunctional herbarium, which Lafont has worked with since 2017, metabolizes itself between what we see and what we read. In this transition, it stigmatizes our endless and lethal ability to appropriate and exploit all living things.
