The challenge Sophie Huguenot set herself seemed both paradoxical and unreasonable: to document and decode the modernity of a television newsroom with an old-style view camera. To take a counter approach to the hustle and bustle of a newsroom with a slow and constraining tool. To patiently and slowly observe a world where immediacy triumphs. In fact, it was the very incongruity of this approach that appealed to me. Introducing an agent provocateur into this world where formatted, refined, scripted images rule opened up the possibility of questioning the mechanisms of the TV news ritual even as the televised cathedrals are struggling to gather the faithful. This project held out the promise of decoding this media at a time when the public service news offer is in danger of disappearing more than ever.
For over nine years (!) Sophie Huguenot chronicled the admirable struggle of a newsroom that was constantly in the eye of the storm: the digital tsunami, the existential battle over public service funding, news fatigue, and last but not least, the decline of traditional media. Through this exploration, she sensed the need to document the heyday of the small screen, the triumph of a news model that may be outworn. Her intuition proved to be right: this remarkable photographic work bears witness to a decade in which the media landscape changed dramatically. This vast corpus of photographs documents a pivotal period in the metamorphosis of audiovisual media.
This analysis, carried out with surgical precision, makes no attempt at aestheticism; at no point does it allow itself to be dazzled by the stars of the small screen. The heart of the matter lies elsewhere. The image focuses on the banality of everyday life in a television studio, meticulously contemplating what is off screen — the cable-cluttered backstage, the marginal spaces, and, above all, the constant waiting that the protagonists of this news staging have to endure. From this framing a mechanics appears that seems to overpower the human element. Little by little, the image of a formidable machinery emerges, an elephantine factory entirely geared towards the spectacle of information. A doubt gradually creeps in: is the machinery legitimate or immoderate?
These photos are striking in their depiction of a technology that is ever more invasive, to the point of becoming overwhelming for journalists, and a relentless need to constantly enhance the image with new, more or less educational gimmicks. And yet, paradoxically, the liturgy of a television newscast today is not fundamentally different from that of fourty years ago. Is this unchanging, sanctified ritual, which has hardly been shaken by technological innovations, from 3D to AI, still relevant?
In an age of algorithms and fake news, the news spectacle, often reviled for its icy, disembodied detachment, nevertheless remains a valuable meeting point with a trusted person who helps us navigate the complexity of the world. It may seem somewhat archaic, with its classic waist-shot presenter, but it has the merit of keeping actual people at the centre.
Every viewer will find their own questions in Sophie Huguenot’s work, and perhaps hints of some answers. For me, this corpus of images represents an inventory that stimulates reflection on the future of the news. It is a valuable report that raises disturbing questions about a media that needs to reinvent itself if it is to avoid obsolescence. By pointing an old-style view camera at what is happening behind the scenes, from the relentless heaviness of the scenographic set-up to the quasi-spatial piloting of contemporary control rooms, from old-fashioned tie-wearing to immoderate use of make-up, this photographic documentary shows the tremendous effort that is made to hold the audience’s attention. In times of budgetary uncertainty, these photographs seem to bear witness to an artefact of the past, of a time when money could be spent lavishly to build the news mausoleums. At one point in history, the audiovisual media will have represented the wonderful promise of bringing the masses together to debate the common good. Leafing through these photographs, we clearly feel that an era is slipping through our fingers. How can we rethink this precious idea, this marvellous information tool at the service of the public, to meet the challenges of direct democracy? Brandished as the key to the future, digital technology has been presented as the designated successor for leading us into the future and retaining audiences. We now know that this technological answer will not be enough. Stunned by the prevailing doom and gloom, tired of the constant negativism, audiences are turning away, and mistrust of the media elites is growing. Restoring trust and regaining attention at a time when multiform digital competition is becoming increasingly fierce will require more than simply refreshing the traditional news offer. We need to take stock, do a thorough review and turn over a new leaf if we are to understand what will justify the existence of a general-interest media in the future that is as relevant as the audiovisual media has been in this early 21st century.
By focusing the lens on our newsrooms for nine years, Sophie Huguenot helps us to take a clear-eyed look at this shrinking world. It is an essential step towards reconstruction. These photographs invite us to contemplate the past while encouraging us to imagine the future. Each of her images prompts us to reflect on our essential need to be informed so that we can better live together. If we had to pick just one photograph from this moment in history, it would perhaps be this shot in the TV studio, showing what is ironically called in the jargon an ‘porteuse d’image’ [image carrier], throwing up her arms in a magnificent, very symbolic blur. It is both a tribute to the men and women who are fighting for quality news, and an expression of fear in the face of the tremendous pressures weighing on their future.