This is the story of a meeting. A rendezvous under the stars, a gift from the heavens that has to be earned. When the mountain comes to light in the aftermath of a storm, piercing through the mist to conquer my heart. And out of this lightning flash springs a unique photograph, an exceptional work of art. I tell you the story of a portrait from summit , from genesis to printing.
The genesis of a photograph of the Alps: When the mountain becomes a muse
The origins of my art lie in a mountain. A summit that inspires me and inspires me to photograph it. That morning, it wasObergabelhorn, the vertiginous giant of the Valais Alps. As soon as I saw him, several years earlier, I knew it was him. That we'd be linked for life, and that every season I'd be climbing its flanks to immortalize it. That was in 2013, time has passed, and my love for him has never waned. He's evolved, of course, and I've seen him change. Losing its whiteness, mourning the melting of its glaciers. Through my work, I have borne witness to its metamorphosis. I've never stopped photographing it.
But then one day, a strange feeling came over me. A sudden intuition thatObergabelhorn was inviting me to join him. I had just completed my black and white work Glowing Matterhorn in honor of the Matterhorn. Revealed in the light of dawn, the mountain was sublime. I love the hues of the dawning dawn, those soft, bewitching glows that seem to reveal the soul of summits. As I plunged my gaze into the heart of this work, I suddenly thought of it. Like an obvious necessity. I had to paint a comparable portrait ofObergabelhorn. Its silhouette lent itself to this, as did the orientation of its walls. I was certain that this pyramid of rock and its eternal ice would transcend the reflections of the dawn.
Story of a portrait by summit : The beginnings of a journey between earth and sky
Deep down, I knew the mountain was calling me. But a work of art matures. It doesn't emerge from chance or wandering. I had to take the ephemeris into account. Find the time and day of the year when the sun illuminates the northeast face ofObergabelhorn at the right angle. By dint of experience, I know how to determine the right days for creation. And thanks to Google Earth, I can simulate the sun's cycle and the movement of shadows on the mountain. So I searched for hours. Finding the right moment and the ideal angle to offer summit a legendary portrait.
The stakes were high and the verdict was final. I had barely a month to immortalizeObergabelhorn. A narrow breach in the infinity of time. The winds had to be just right. For the elements to merge, giving the mountain its winter finery. Only snow frozen by the cold could endow my work with a divine touch. Only snow could redraw summit. And if I wanted the indomitable face ofObergabelhorn to shimmer in the sunlight, I had to hope that no clouds would get in the way.
I finally had to study the maps to find the right vantage point. The perfect angle that would allow me to capture the mountain as I dreamed of it. I wanted it to be inaccessible and colossal. I hoped it would be grandiose, as if from another world. Here again, I combined the precious data of Google Earth with my own experience to decide where this masterpiece would be born.
History of a portrait by summit : Encountering theObergabelhorn
I've waited a long time for this hour to come. As the furious winds blew away from Zinal, I headed for the mountains. With my partner, I skied up the Zinal glacier to the Mountet hut in the heart of the Couronne Impériale. In the late winter of 2021, the weather was freezing. As night fell, we could feel the cold rushing through the interior of the hut, right down to our comforters. It was below 5°C in our dormitory and we didn't know how to keep warm. When it creeps up on you inexorably, the cold quickly becomes a formidable enemy.
After a few stolen hours of restless sleep, we were up well before everyone else. In silence, we left the cabin in the middle of the night. We were in for a tough ordeal, our bodies tired and our souls wandering, but we had to go. If we were to succeed in photographingObergabelhorn at first light, we had to get to our lookout point as quickly as possible.
I remember this crossing very well. It was still as cold as it rarely was in the Alps at that time of year. The temperature was around -20°C. Walking warmed us up a bit, but once we reached our destination, the cold took hold of us without mercy. Faced withObergabelhorn, I deployed my equipment and set up my tripod. The night was still dark when I started photographing. Making sure my camera respected an exposure time of 8 seconds, I stood there, contemplating the sky. The icy air burned my lips and bit into my fingers. But there I was, where fate had led me. At the very spot where the mountain had begged me to return. At the confluence of worlds, at the heart of everything. I was in the right place at the right time to seize my chance and finally celebrate the splendor of the Alps.
Birth of art photography: At summit .Obergabelhorn
But no matter how hard you try to fulfill your dream, there's always a part of life that's imponderable. I could barely breathe in the flickering shadows, but nothing was happening. The breath of the heights, the whisper of the wind. The evanescent mountain continued to sleep. I concentrated on my task, trying several times to focus despite the stubborn night. I kept breaking my eyes on the small screen of my camera, without really knowing whether or not my settings were right. I was navigating in the midst of uncertainty. Lost in the middle of nowhere. And it was so cold.
Then, the day slowly dawned. An imperceptible glimmer of hope. Drowned in my doubts, I was certain of one thing: my fate would be sealed any minute now. Every second counts when immortalizing the high summits of the Alps. I stood still, hoping for a miracle, but thoughts swirled in my trembling mind. Would I be able to capture the moment? Was my camera properly adjusted? WouldObergabelhorn agree to reveal itself? Was my art just a mirage after all? I was no longer sure of anything when the mountain suddenly emerged from the shadows, dazzling and solemn. Around it, the sky was clear, haze-free and cloudless. I had done everything I could to create this portrait of summit. Now I had to let go, think of the present and trust in nature and destiny.
The story of a portrait by summit : From light to print
As soon as the sun came out and pierced the horizon, I packed up my gear and we skied back down to the Mountet hut. The first roped parties of climbers were just starting to leave the hut. I still didn't know if I'd accomplished my mission, and it was with a feverish heart that I headed home. On my computer screen, I scrolled through the morning's photos. Blurry, out of focus, too dark or badly framed. I was beginning to lose hope when suddenly I saw her. The portrait of my dreams. The perfect photograph. I'd called for it so many times, I didn't dare believe it. That impalpable fragrance that makes all the difference. That imperceptible breath that borders on genius. Nature has created the most beautiful of masterpieces, and I've managed to immortalize it. How could I have doubted her so much?
TheObergabelhorn had opened its heart to me. Now it's up to me to bring it to light. I only intervene in my works with light touches. Out of respect for the mountain, so as not to betray it. I cropped this photograph because my tripod wasn't straight. Color gave way to black and white, and I played with contrasts to give it a soul. So that from shadow to light, it tells our story.
I superimpose my gaze on the wonders of nature. As a fervent admirer magnifies the work of his muse. I never paint the same portrait twice. Because light evolves, tones change. The intensity of blues varies as whites fade. Nature never ceases to reinvent itself, and the photographer must be on the lookout for its metamorphoses.
Then it was time for the work to take flight. In its new black and white garb, this fascinating portrait ofObergabelhorn has left its box. I entrusted it to my printer, who presented me with a first proof. This is a delicate stage, as the paper profile has to be applied to the photograph. A little can change everything. A slightly different tonality and the spell is broken. On that day, the print was perfect, just like the work of art I had been longing for. Then photography spread its wings. Ready to conquer its audience, ready to take you on the most beautiful of journeys.
This is my art. The story of a portrait from summit that intertwines with our lives. The tumultuous, intoxicating genesis of a photograph. Born of a troubling dream, of a maddening evidence, the work makes its way to you. Beyond the obstacles, in the sky of the Alps, I gather the art of the mountain, I shape it, I sublimate it to transmit it to you and perpetuate its precious memory.
