Their poetry is nourished by the force of nature and breathes from their respective emotions. “We look different like that, but we share so many things,” begins the photographer, aware that their place of life, on the Crozon peninsula, lends itself to meditation and the uplifting of souls. How many secret beaches, trails and inlets? “The estuary is none other than the sea, welcoming us with open arms,” says the poet Gilles Baudry, who has long remained in the shadows, in his characteristic style.
The title of this new work, “Infinitudes”, a contraction of infinity and solitude, imposed itself on the photographer, one very calm morning, in the harbor of Brest. “I was in my kayak, suspended between sky and sea. The mist enveloped the bottom of the harbor, as it often does in the morning. I was evolving in an indefinable in-between. »
Meeting in a sunken path
Their meeting dates back around ten years. “It was in a hollow path, a narrow passage,” remembers Gilles Baudry. She was on her horse, I was on foot,” says the monk from Landévennec Abbey, used to solitary walks.
Their unwavering love of nature blossomed with “Morning of the Trees”, released in 2017. Followed by “Interior Waters”, in 2019, and “Infinitudes”, in 2024, where the photographer decided to take the Benedictine monk towards the open sea.
“I am a landlubber, from a remote place near Nantes. I'm more of a foreshore man. My life is here, between the river and the Landévennec forest. When Aïcha suggested that I accompany her images of the sea, I felt great dizziness but, at the same time, the attraction of these infinite horizons. »
For Brother Gilles, nature and these suspended moments are the expression of God. “We like silence, solitude, we like to live retired, each in our own way,” specifies the photographer, a non-believer. Curious about the life of the religious community, Aïcha Dupoy de Guitard came to photograph the brothers of the abbey for a year. “I had carte blanche. I shared their daily life. We made an exhibition of it. Without their photographed faces, some would have left few traces. »
Busy days
Meeting them and walking alongside them, from the abbey park, prolongs the pleasure of reading. Absolute calm, inspiring nature. “Authors often come to see me here,” explains Gilles Baudry. We talk about poetry and many other subjects. » There is also the extensive correspondence that he regularly receives at the abbey, by mail, from his readers and other poets. “I strive to respond to everyone, even if very late. »And how can we not mention the multiple tasks to be carried out within the community, which has gone from around thirty monks upon its arrival in 1976 to only fourteen today? Welcoming visitors, managing the library, making fruit jellies, writing religious songs (hymns) collectively, writing the community chronicle, etc. The cantor starts at 5 a.m., with a first prayer (six during the day). At 76 years old, there is no shortage of work, with one short day of desert (rest) per month. “I would be incapable of writing novels with characters who would occupy my mind too much, whereas short texts give me complete freedom. »
For her part, Aïcha Dupoy de Guitard never tires of surveying her peninsula where the sea and the sky merge. In some of his photos, a human, facing the immensity of the ocean… “Here, emotions and beauty become one. You just have to take the time to look,” she explains simply, in a peninsula where spirituality is inseparable from nature.
Return to grace
Poetry has long been the poor relation of literature in France. “We are very far behind most European countries,” observes Gilles Baudry. “But we come across them more and more often on social networks,” rejoices Aïcha Dupoy of Guitard. Their crossed poetry, an ode to a fully accessible nature, before our eyes, sounds a providential return to grace.
