PHTOGGOS 04 /2025
CENT ONZE CENT QUINZE
by Florian Maricourt
400 copies
Book, 96 pages, 10x17cm
8 different covers + 8 different drawings inside
22 colour analog photographs + 15 poems + drawings + texts
offset uv hdr, soft cover, swiss binding, printed in France by Escourbiac -
reliure à la suisse, impression offset uv hdr, couverture souple, imprimé en France par Escourbiac
Drawings, Photos, Texts - Florian Maricourt / Poems - Lin Ying Qin
(en)
“Lin Ying Qin is my neighbour. Everyday, I pass her sitting at the bottom of her building. I live at 115, she lives at 111. She wears flowered trousers that her mother brings her from the market. She's never cold, never hot, never hungry. Ying Qin tells me about her dreams. What I know about her, I learn slowly through our laughter and awkward discussions.”
(fr)
“Lin Ying Qin est ma voisine. Tous les jours, je la croise assise au bas de son immeuble. J'habite au 115, elle au 111. Elle porte des pantalons à fleurs que sa mère lui ramène du marché. Elle n'a jamais froid, jamais chaud, elle n'a jamais faim. Ying Qin me raconte ses rêves. Ce que je sais d’elle, je l’apprends lentement à travers nos rires et nos discussions maladroites.”
CENT ONZE CENT QUINZE
by Florian Maricourt
400 copies
Book, 96 pages, 10x17cm
8 different covers + 8 different drawings inside
22 colour analog photographs + 15 poems + drawings + texts
offset uv hdr, soft cover, swiss binding, printed in France by Escourbiac -
reliure à la suisse, impression offset uv hdr, couverture souple, imprimé en France par Escourbiac
Drawings, Photos, Texts - Florian Maricourt / Poems - Lin Ying Qin
︎ Buy Now ― Acheter le livre
(en)
“Lin Ying Qin is my neighbour. Everyday, I pass her sitting at the bottom of her building. I live at 115, she lives at 111. She wears flowered trousers that her mother brings her from the market. She's never cold, never hot, never hungry. Ying Qin tells me about her dreams. What I know about her, I learn slowly through our laughter and awkward discussions.”
(fr)
“Lin Ying Qin est ma voisine. Tous les jours, je la croise assise au bas de son immeuble. J'habite au 115, elle au 111. Elle porte des pantalons à fleurs que sa mère lui ramène du marché. Elle n'a jamais froid, jamais chaud, elle n'a jamais faim. Ying Qin me raconte ses rêves. Ce que je sais d’elle, je l’apprends lentement à travers nos rires et nos discussions maladroites.”
