‘I photographed opera-goers in Paris over several months. The pictures were technically fine – but I wanted them to feel timeless. So I restaged them in Melbourne with models’
Many years ago I had a wonderful art dealer in Paris. At some point in the late 80s, the Garnier Opéra and Opéra Comique approached my gallery to invite me to collaborate with them. They had a tradition of commissioning visual artists – Richard Serra was also working on a production.
I realised that what would interest me most would be to photograph the audience. It fascinates me how people are part of a tightly packed group yet at the same time alone, a single face in the crowd. And how, from soccer matches to the Nuremberg rallies, as part of a crowd people derive a sense of great power. But it is only borrowed – it belongs to the crowd and must be returned.
Within an opera audience there is a very special feeling. You are part of a large group of people all gathered in the darkness, awaiting and then experiencing the same special event, and yet each person is in an individual, meditative, self-absorbed state. I loved that inherent contradiction. It’s what you see if you watch people looking at, say, Rembrandt portraits, in an art gallery. There’s a kind of magic in seeing someone transported.
