The photographer Ouka Leele presents her solo exhibition in Belmonte for the first time:

“The Light Reflected by Bodies Dance Inside My Eyes” brings together the collection of unpublished Polaroid photographs that the Spanish photographer Ouka Leele captured in 1988 in Paris, commissioned by fashion designer Philippe Model.” On this occasion, the artist portrayed her collection of decorated accessories designed by her, using a giant polaroid camera. This machine was the only one in Europe capable of producing instant images of 50 x 60 cm and was brought in for the occasion from Frankfurt (FRG) to Jouy-en-Josas (France). The series, consisting of 26 photographs in total, was presented at the Fondation Cartier in 1988 as part of the Photo Month in the city of Paris.

The exhibition Ouka Leele pour Philippe Model was first presented in Spain in the summer of 1989, as part of the cultural animation activities organized by the Menéndez Pelayo International University at its headquarters in Santander and La Coruña.

Coinciding with this exhibition, the Círculo de Bellas Artes is exhibiting a retrospective of the photographer’s work during the 1970s and 1980s as part of the PHotoESPAÑA 2021 program.

Photograph

Dark night, dark and full of darkness.

Love that moved all beautiful things,

the sun and all the other stars.

The sun, an illuminated caress client for our beloved earth.

The sun, the light.

The sky, the light, the gods… a dream.

Dream, eternal dream.

Let there be light! and reality hits me from within,

something in my heart trembles.

The light reflected by the bodies dances inside my eyes,

it pierces me in the girls, and two little black nails bleed deep inside me.

If I could tell you what I feel through my eyes! but…

what will yours see?

Maybe a pencil, drawing some lines, could make you feel
the same as me when I contemplate a tree.

The first time I saw snow, my guts turned,

then, a faithful lover, I haven’t been able to stop admiring it.

The first time I opened my eyes…

The first time I saw your smile.

The first time I saw so many and each of the miracles that

surround me.

Always the first pure look, in this eternal present

instantaneous.

The light! Working with light! Light as a

working tool!

Then, I discovered a device, a camera obscura, which

resembled an eye quite a bit.

Well… only in its operation, not at all in its beauty.

A brush is like a wrong finger. It doesn’t grow a nail; it grows hair. It doesn’t grow

a nail; it grows hair.

A pen is a finger with a smudge, like a schoolgirl’s;

but neat, like a lady.

And so, with that mechanical eye, I discovered that I could collect

bits of reality, that the light emanating from bodies

stuck to a piece of gelatin when the light, surprisingly,

impressed it.

Now! … and the light was captured. What a little toy!

Photographers, aggressive thieves, go around stealing their

light from people, landscapes, everything they can get hold of.

That little piece of reality, constructed with light, that is stolen,

becomes a treasure, a jewel,

and is valued as such.

Photography is an instantaneous eye.

It is the memory of the gaze of this human age.

Photography is a gaze that must be built,

we must build an ivory tower.

A gaze must, must be destroyed, which deviates from purity.

Photography is a river where a girl named diaphragm bathes

and wears a dress of magical numbers: 2.8.

4. 5’6. 8. 11. 16. 22. 32. 45. …

Photography is you, yes, you. All the YOUS outside

my eyes.

Photography is a rite, to invoke the muses.

Photography is an instrument for observing nature.

It is the invention of some lover to converse about time,

with the object of his love, in time.

Light is invented in photography.

Photography invents photographers and mistreats them

until they surrender at its feet and gently penetrate

its secrets.

Then, I discovered that with a lot of patience,

some colors, and a brush,

I could cherish the captured reality,

and by caressing it, caressing it, I could copy

the colors of my memories.

And also, that I could bring a face close, almost touch it,

and move some chairs away, until they were in the shadows.

It highlighted the most hidden, small and imperceptible,

veiled what had absorbed the most light,

and smelled the moss in the folds of a fabric.

I see, I see.

What do you see?

Ouka Leele

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