Alix Marie

From Photography Now: Fifty Pioneers Defining Photography for the Twenty-First Century, TATE and ILEX Publishing

Born in Paris in 1989, Alix Marie was raised on cinema. The first film she watched, at two years old, wasn’t a Disney classic but F.W. Murnau’s Nosferatu (1922), the classic silent horror film about a vampire interested in buying a new property – and in his estate agent’s beautiful wife. Marie has said in an interview that this early encounter with the grotesque has informed her highly unusual works, in which she sculpts photography into something fleshy, visceral and downright strange. 

As a student at Central Saint Martins and then the Royal College of Art in London, Marie developed a practice that fulfilled her desire to be able to both see things and touch them. Frustrated with the flatness of photographs but nonetheless enthralled with image making, she concentrates today on photo-based sculptures and installations that envelop the viewer, capturing something of the absorption of the cinema goer sitting in the glow of the silver screen. The physical aspect of Marie’s work is just as important as the visual, not only in the way she fills space but also in the treatment of her recurrent subject matter: bodies. ‘The practice of photography can be so clinical; it did not fit me as a messy sculptor. But that was kind of my obsession – to work out how to give the medium a body,’ she has explained. Marie’s sculpted photographs create an unsettling form that takes you inside the image, making you a little more aware of your own skin. 

Throughout its history, photography has established a hierarchy of bodies, representing aspirational forms and perfect physiques for men and women, whether in advertising campaigns, publications or pornography. To eschew this heteronormative gaze  on binary bodies, Marie prefers to create layers that  merge different parts of differently gendered bodies,  surfaces that often conceal the source material or trick  us into seeing something that isn’t there. She has  X-rayed classical sculptures from the Victoria and  Albert Museum’s collection, cast her own body, and  printed biceps and torsos onto Perspex boxes filled with  water and heated by lamps, making the pictures look as  if they are perspiring. For Marie, ‘This methodology is to  pause and reflect, to dig out other ways of thinking  which escape the extremely narrow script we have been  given to inhabit our skins. The way I photograph is claiming a place for genuine depiction of our bodies, in  opposition to the impossible ideal we are fed everyday  through advertising and mass media.’ 

Metamorphosis and hybridity are core components in Marie’s work. A starting point is often  classical mythology, together with archetypes of  femininity and masculinity and assumptions about ideal  bodies, all of which are ways to speak about the  construction and performance of gender and identity in  the contemporary context. In her sculptural work La  Femme Fontaine (2017), for example, Marie references the Greek mythological figure Niobe, who made the  mistake of boasting about how fertile she was; as a  consequence, the gods killed her children and the  weeping mother was turned to stone. With their hybrid  bodies, the Greek sirens, who lured sailors to their  death with their song, have also been an inspiration, as  has the Pythia, the high priestess at Apollo’s oracle in  Delphi, who evoked both fear and wonder because of her  deep knowledge. These ancient figures serve as  prototypes for continuing stereotypes of femininity as  hysterical, seductive and dangerous.  

In tandem with these explorations of exaggerated  feminine qualities, Marie has investigated displays of  masculinity that date back to ancient Greek athletes.  In her trio of works Flex (2017), Shredded (2018) and  Olympians (2019), she examines this specifically through  bodybuilding, using found images from bodybuilding  magazines like FLEX, Swedish porn and the profiles of  bodybuilders she has met on Instagram. With its  posturing and posing, often in skimpy outfits and in  front of an audience – not unlike a striptease –  bodybuilding for Marie represents a clash of camp and  heteronormative hyper-masculinity. It is also a subject  that has an established history with the camera, both  as a way to record athletes’ accomplishments and  physiques, and as an area of fascination for artists such  as Robert Mapplethorpe, Camille Vivier and Bill Dobbins.  Marie articulates the analogy thus: ‘Bodybuilding is  about image and aesthetic, the performance of  strength rather than physical strength itself, and it sits  in between science and art, in which it relates  to photography.’ 

Charlotte Jansen, 2021