Interview By Charles Gaucher
At the Château de Millemont, near Garancières in the Yvelines region, the exhibition The Japan Tour 2026–29 by photographer Hervé Saint Hélier was held from 1 to 31 July 2025, curated by Della Tobias. This exhibition brings together the artist’s remaining available works, offered for sale to help finance his next journey to the Land of the Rising Sun.
In this château – which served as a backdrop for several interior scenes in Sofia Coppola’s Marie Antoinette, and even a Chanel advertisement (complete with a specially designed bathtub, still visible in one of the rooms) – the works are presented in an original scenography: displayed along a corridor with multiple adjoining doors, they gradually reveal, with each step, a new fragment of Hervé Saint Hélier’s visual universe.
In the photographs, the colour work, finely tuned saturation, deep blues and striking reds; the consistently precise and intentional framing, placed in dialogue, reveal not only the artist’s technical mastery, but also a deep sense of narrative. Each image carries a story: memories of travels, press assignments, fleeting moments captured in the wake of a butterfly’s wingbeat.
His gaze is sharp, his voice assured: experience has shaped Hervé Saint Hélier, but he has no intention of stopping there. His next project will take him from Siberia to Japan, a crossing he intends to document with the same sensitivity. An adventurous spirit, in search of sensation, his images reveal a disarming softness and serenity – like a quiet pause amidst the turmoil.
Interview.
You began as a photojournalist in 1989 before moving into artistic photography. When did that shift occur?
In 2000. It was an artists’agent who made me realise that my perspective was already that of an art photographer. He told me, “What you’re doing isn’t press work anymore – it’s something else. You need to show it in the art world.” Even at Sigma, some of my photos were considered too “artistic” to be published. They’d say, “No, that’s too beautiful – not for the press.” So yes, the transition happened naturally. It’s a bit like music: some play the notes as written, others improvise. I’m in the improvisation camp, in movement. I often joke that I have a PhD in being self-taught. I didn’t learn in a school – travelling was my teacher. In the end, I did both in parallel: direct sales through Sigma, Sipa, Match, and then more personal projects. There was also a film, with Patrice Haddad, who offered me the chance to make a behind-the-scenes piece for Lancôme, because he believed I could handle being behind a camera.’
How did you select the works for this exhibition, which comes just before your departure for Japan?
I see it like a puzzle for which you don’t have the box image. You have to gather the available pieces lightly, almost playfully. I chose the photographs still in my possession before I left as I’m closing my space at the Château de Millemont for four years. There’ll be three years in Japan, plus one additional year I hope to spend in residence at the Villa Kujoyama. If not, I already have a Plan B: a friend’s house facing Mount Fuji. Some of the works shown here have never been exhibited before. There are even prints I made thirty-six years ago. Today, I’m selling everything – even images I used to keep just for myself.
Would you say art is a vehicle for spirituality in your work?
Yes, I believe so. I have faith. Our body comes from somewhere. This extraordinary machine comes from somewhere. I don’t know where – but I don’t feel the need to name it. I don’t want to create a totem.
There’s something truly distinctive in your work. I immediately sensed a deeply cinematic quality in what you do. I discussed it with Della Tobias, the exhibition’s Curator– we mentioned Wong Kar-wai, and perhaps even a touch of Sofia Coppola… You can feel that atmosphere in the grain of the image, in the light, in the way the scenes are composed. But at the same time, I was talking about that singularity, because it is unmistakably your photography, your eye. You bring something deeply personal. What struck me was this impression of “stolen moments”, captured on the fly, in the impulse of the moment. Moments that feel suspended, almost outside of time. I had the feeling I was looking at things that, on the surface, are visible to everyone – and yet you were the one who saw that exact moment, that perfect framing, that small gesture of brilliance where you thought: “This – this is the moment to take the shot.” And it’s that way of seeing that runs through the entire body of work presented here. It feels as though we are witnessing flashes of insight – moments when you seize your medium to capture something invisible to the naked eye, yet under your lens, it takes on a striking artistic and poetic weight.
What you’ve just said is truly interesting – that idea of something invisible to the eye. Because it’s also invisible to me, in the moment I’m capturing it. In cinema, you’re working at 24 frames per second – sometimes 30, 40, 50, depending on the settings. And when you slow it down, you can go even further. But photography freezes a much briefer instant. On average, photographers shoot at 1/125th or 1/250th of a second. That’s 250 fractions of a second – infinitesimal. A blink of an eye, quite literally. And yet, a full second – one, two, three – you can feel the space between those beats, between those moments. Photography captures something even shorter than that. An instant we are, most of the time, incapable of remembering precisely. We remember a scene, a mood – but not that exact moment. It’s not like a musical note you can hum. It’s more fleeting. It’s something you feel almost physically, that imprints itself on a deeper memory – something instinctive, almost cellular. And then, that instant resurfaces. On a print, or through a digital file, it’s revealed, shown, shared. And suddenly, that instant becomes infinite. It becomes eternal – because it’s always there, each time we look at it. So when you speak of stolen moments, or moments we don’t see – that’s exactly it. That paradox: we don’t see them when they happen, but they’re the ones we end up holding on to.
And what about the inscriptions we see on some of the pieces?
They’re titles, or more like gestures. Sometimes I scratch the surface, I add stars, I write “Welcome to Earth”. I do that for births, or when I’m in a village and I meet someone. It’s a spontaneous act. A painter friend, Stéphane Mel, encouraged me to sign my works like that, on the front. He said, “You’re not just a photographer – you’re an artist.”
Why such a strong attraction to Japan?
Because I want to let myself go. I’d like to arrive by sea, from Siberia – not from Paris. I want to go there as a discoverer, an explorer. I don’t want to plan everything. I see this journey as a long one. There are more than 700 islands. I’ll stay for a week wherever something happens, wherever connections are made. And along the way, I’ll learn Japanese – I’m bound to pick up words. That’s the gift of the journey.
FROM THE CURATOR: Della Tobias
I recently was invited by artist Hervé Saint Hélier to his unique residency and atelier within the magnificent Château de Millemont, just 40 minutes outside of Paris. Having already organised a solo exhibition for Saint Hélier in 2016 as director of Carter Lane Gallery, London, I offered to help curate again a show that the artist was intending to make before embarking upon a 3 year project journeying through Japan, planned from 2026 to 2029. The art installations along the Chateau main staircase, first floor corridor and rooms, uniquely enables the viewer to experience his photography in a very striking, intimate environment, very different to the usual pristine gallery white box, as guests are invited to meander through doorways and side rooms to discover alternate aspects of the artists oeuvre in an entirely unexpected yet playful way, enhanced by sound and light design which juxtapose harmoniously with the Chateau’s stunning interiors.
It has been a beautiful, yet challenging experience organising in such short space of time a pop-up exhibition within the spectacular grandeur of Château de Millemont’s majestic interiors, with idyllic pastoral vistas beyond and streams of natural daylight throughout. Much improvisation was required for us to to hang and light the artwork within this eclectic environment, redolent of history, dense in atmosphere. Being also a filmmaker, I always approach an exhibition as I would a film script, a narrative, a dialogue, communicating with the spectator, leading their gaze and subconscious through a space, guiding connections towards a meaningful experience. I was especially excited by this location as some rooms upon entering reminded me of films by Andrei Tarkovsky, who has always been a great source of inspiration.
The exhibition opens the same way as the London exhibition, with a photograph entitled “The Confusion of Michiko” a delicate, ephemeral yet timeless work of true elegance and enigma, introducing the theme of Japan. Contrasting beautifully with the ancient family portraiture along the grand escalier upwards to the exhibition on the first floor. Closing with a ‘mysterious’ bubble wrapped artwork later to be unveiled, a photograph taken almost 30 years ago, which first inspired Saint Hélier’s dream of one day dedicating himself to creating a profound body of work immersing himself to exploring Japan. Well known photographs by Saint Hélier are shown alongside rare, never before exhibited artworks that convey the true breadth, scale and versatility of the artist’s subject matter, focus and skills, yet always anchored in his unique vision, colour saturation and meticulous mastery of hand printed film.
The proceeds of the exhibition and sale will go towards supporting Saint Hélier’s ambitious new project: The Japan Tour 2026 – 2029.
This exhibition has now been extended throughout August until 15 September, 2025, at Château de Millemont, where Saint Hélier shall continue hosting receptions, events and artist talks.