Chrystel Lebas – Between Dog and Wolf

This small book is a little wonder. Despite its small size, Between Dog and Wolf (2006) provides an utterly immersive experience into the various twilights of Finland, England, Belgium and Japan. This isn’t just because Lebas’ chosen format is the panorama, nor that the images often take up their entire pages, but particularly due to Lebas’ unashamed, even brazen, embrace of black. 

untitled #4, 2005, Chrystel Lebas

The series Blue Hour, included here, lingers in the same bluebell glade until only a few unidentifiable dots of colour break up the final shot. The viewer is made to strain, made to work, just as when faced with dying light. The known becomes abstract and slightly unsettling, the complexities of woodland reduced to vague structures. 

untitled #9, 2005, Chrystel Lebas

Even where the trees’ shapes are more defined – as with the snow series Between Dog and Wolf (a French term for twilight) – the presence of large dark patches, or dark borders, implies an encroaching darkness. Lebas leaves much of the perception of this work to the viewer’s imagination, a perfect analogy of twilight’s cultural heritage.

untitled #1, 2003, Chrystel Lebas

I have much to learn here. Digital photography permits an almost forensic analysis of light, details in the shadows unavailable to the naked eye unveiled through Lightroom. I often find this an irresistible temptation: to lift the leaves, bark and pebbles from obscurity is an act of discovery with a certain amount of childish delight attached to it. However, doing so does not necessarily make for images that communicate affect as effectively as Lebas fuzzy edges and jet black patches, and it’s affect that interests me the most – at least at present – working as I am with the end of the day. Just because my camera has recorded detail in the shadows should not dictate that I reveal it. I am already beginning to darken some images, plunging details back into obscurity and leaving sections of the images featureless for the viewer to make their own mind up about. 

Harpford Common, 2020, Andy Thatcher

It’s also worth mentioning that I find high summer a difficult time for me to photograph. I’m drawn to geometric structures and the profusion of dark texture makes branches, paths, and streams complex and dense. Through plunging them back into darkness, the forms, paradoxically, begin to emerge once more, while new shapes emerge in the diminished points of light which have struggled through the foliage. 

Woodbury Common, 2020, Andy Thatcher

Lebas, C. 2006. Between Dog and Wolf. London: Azure Publishing. 

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