At night, in the midst of suburbia Fabrice Bigot discovers his subject matter.  He shoots flowers, lit just by street lamps like breathing organisms.  The results are more alien than familiar, more sensuous than pretty.  Bigot’s botanicals are stripped of colour and left to their essential form.  They gently lap and cluster together, sinking from light to darkness. Described as “standing naked in front of me”, Bigot’s flowers are fragile, seductive and daunting.

Bigot takes matter that seems entirely ordinary and presents it as unearthly.  His big, critically acclaimed photographs fervently treat the pleasant as exotic.  Erotic, odd and cinematic, these photographs are a pleasure to view.  In his first strides as a solo-artist, Bigot reminds us that within our rationalist, urban world bizarre beauty exists.

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