There are a few artistic fields (i.e. Fashion photography, interior design, singer-songwriter pop music, etc.) which remain to this day whole-heartedly committed to the idea of 'art' which emerged in the eighties, a kind of halfway station between celebrity culture and bohemian hedonism with a generous serving of low-hanging intellectual references. It has very little to do with the actual world, market or practice of art. It's a hazy fantasy of middle-class disalienation, where work and leisure magically coincide for a select few. Like most superficial notions, they are are best captured visually, thus being enduringly popular in film, but also largely superficial and uninteresting.The love-life of a photographer could certainly make an interesting film: the shifting relation to visuality in our XXIst c. Culture, its role in the construction of beauty standards or its liminal position in the market economy are all fascinating subjects. Unfortunately here all you get is I a vague montage of sun-drenched Instagram reels, interspersed with self-important pronouncements about 'artistic inspiration' and 'life'.
