PHOTOGRAPHERS

1955 Newquay, UK – 1999 Paris, France

Writing the biography of Charles Thomas more than 20 years after his death remains a
painful exercise. Since that day of April when he was stabbed at his shooting location, the
four members of the collective have remained in mourning. After 14 years of interruption, we
had to respond to Hikaru Ushizima’s invitation to Biarritz in July 2023 to finally exchange
our memories of who Charles was. We were able to laugh and cry about our shared
memories, the wonderful moments spent together, this helps us today, we hope, not to
transform this biography into a funeral oration.
Charles was truly the eccentric jolly fellow of our collective. This friend who counted for
nothing constantly lived in excess. He did not know how to say no, was open to all proposals
and, like a child, marveled at absolutely everything. We sometimes had trouble holding back
a laugh when he discovered the meaning of a French expression (goose poop) or a kitchen
utensil known for a thousand years. Charles was a questioner, about everything and everyone.
“Why” was the word he probably used most often. These questions were undoubtedly the
most convenient way he had of not providing answers, which makes this biography
incomplete.
Hikaru thinks that Charles came from a wealthy family since he participated in the Polo
tournament in his hometown and never needed to work during his life in Paris. Jana thinks he
was more of a celestial tramp, he had nothing and needed nothing. Sardines in oil on a piece
of bread delighted him, he loved to repeat that one and we should not confuse need and
desire. He had quality clothes in beautiful fabrics but threadbare. He loved pointing out the
dilapidation of his clothes as much as their quality. Aristocrats used to have their servants
wear their clothes because new clothes were vulgar, Charles was too distinguished to
remember it, he lived it.
A free spirit, his only mysterious connection was to regularly take the metro station Vavin in
the middle of the afternoon with his big white box to Stalingrad station, to settle down on his
end of the sidewalk and make images of his box on his head. This never lasted long because
he needed full sun and keeping his head up to his chest in this box quickly became
unbearable. He sometimes called it his microwave. Why Charles had installed a gray gelatin
screen in front of his box in order to be able to photograph without being seen with a low
speed and a wide open aperture, we have no explanation. He was experimenting. He worked
with telematics cameras equipped with a 35mm with a shallow depth of field, 1/250th at F2.8.
I had offered to give him Technical Pan at 25 iso to get the same thing without having to slip
under this box, he had used it but…with his box at 1/15th at F2.8! In the evening after
returning to his small apartment on the 6th arrondissement, in one of the most beautiful
buildings in the capital, he left his films of the day in the shoes he had worn. Seven pairs of
shoes, one for each day… It was easy when you visited him looking at his shoes, to know
what he had done with his week. We think of everything we would have liked to experience,
if he were still there. The 4 aging members with hieratic activity will remain more than ever
the collective chambre5 in order to honor his memory