Architecture and Design, Art & Archives, Getty Research Institute, Photographs, Film, and Video, Publications

“The Photographer with the Soul of an Architect”: Lucien Hervé

Cover of Le Corbusier & Lucien Herve / Getty Publications

In 1949, self-taught photographer Lucien Hervé (1910–2007) traveled from Paris to Marseille to see Unité d’habitation, a housing complex by architect Le Corbusier. Awed by the groundbreaking modern design, Hervé took 650 photographs of it in a single day. When he returned, he mailed them to Le Corbusier. “You have the soul of an architect,” Corbusier replied, and asked Hervé to become his official photographer.

Later, Le Corbusier recounted, “For 40 years I’ve been looking for a photographer able to express architecture.” He had finally found him in Hervé. The two men worked together for the next 16 years—some of Le Corbusier’s most fruitful—until the architect’s death in 1965.

Hervé took thousands of photographs of Le Corbusier’s projects in France and India, as well as portraits of the architect at work and visual studies of objects such as tree trunks or concrete. Once he developed the photographs as contact sheets, he winnowed them down and pasted them into an album, which he and Le Corbusier used when selecting images for publications, lectures, and books.

Getty Publications’ newly released Le Corbusier & Lucien Hervé: A Dialogue between Architect and Photographer by Jacques Sbriglio is the first book to reproduce pages of Hervé’s handmade album. Housed at the Fondation Le Corbusier in Paris since 1965, the album is a vast visual archive of 1,200 cardboard sheets, each carefully sequenced and numbered.

Hervé has long been celebrated for his exceptional artistry as well as his prolific output. (The Getty Research Institute alone holds a collection of over 18,000 of Hervé’s photographic negatives.) The book, however, offers something new: a look at his thought process and editorial choices, as well as his development as an artist.

Photographs by Lucien Herve of Le Corbusier's Pavillon du Bresil in Paris

Pavillon du Brésil, Cité universitaire de Paris, Paris, France, 1953 © FLC-ADAGP

Hervé came to photography by a circuitous route. Born in Hungary, he studied fine art in Vienna and moved to Paris in the early 1930s to work in fashion, then joined the French Communist Party. In 1939, he was drafted as a military photographer, but was captured by the Nazis and sent to prison, where he became very active in the Résistance.

After the war Hervé left politics behind to write for art journals. It was one of his editors, in fact, who suggested he visit Unité d’habitation. Hervé began experimenting with photography, over- or underexposing images or severely cropping them to attain unusual compositions. He followed the work of avant-garde artists such as Piet Mondrian, László Moholy-Nagy, and Alexander Rodchenko, whose stark geometry and abstracted forms enabled him to recognize the same in Le Corbusier’s designs.

When Le Corbusier later asked Hervé how he became a photographer, he replied, “with a pair of scissors.”

Photographs by Lucien Herve of Le Corbusier's Chapel of Notre-Dame-du-Haut, Ronchamp, France

Chapel of Notre-Dame-du-Haut, Ronchamp, France, 1950 © FLC-ADAGP

Hervé photographed from multiple vantage points to portray the experience of walking through Le Corbusier’s buildings and create “cinematic visual experiences unfolding over time.”

For example, only a few of Hervé’s images of the iconic chapel at Ronchamp show it head-on. Hervé instead focused on dozens of small details, shooting close-ups of the rough concrete, the geometric shadows cast across the facades, the heavy swoop of the roof, or its strong edges framed by a white sky. These tight shots appear abstract when seen alone, but when viewed in sequence they create a rich total experience of the building, one that wide views would have missed.

Another example: His series taken at Le Corbusier’s small cabin in Roquebrune-Cap-Martin include the landscape and views, a cat lying on the bed, and Mediterranean light infusing the rooms. These multiple views, like film stills, create a narrative that vividly translates the physical experience of being there.

The new book has many beautiful examples of these immersive photographs—some intimate, some transcendent—that bridge the visions of architect and photographer.

Tagged , , , , , , , : . Bookmark the permalink. Post a comment or leave a trackback: Trackback URL.

4 Trackbacks

Post a Comment

Your email is never published or shared. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>


  • Facebook

  • Twitter

  • Tumblr

    • photo from Tumblr

      Color for Healing

      This sanitorium (tuberculosis hospital) in Paimio, Finland, was designed by architect Alvar Aalto in the 1920s. Unlike many hospitals, it was full of bright colors—including welcoming yellow on the main stairs and calming green for ceilings above bedridden patients. Aalto even created special chairs to open the chest and speed healing.

      The building’s colors were mostly whitewashed later in the 20th century, but now—due to a grant from the Getty Foundation as part of its Keeping It Modern initiative—its colors are being reconstructed and the building preserved for the future.

      More of the story: Saving Alvar Aalto’s Paimio Sanitorium

      Pictured: Paimio Sanatorium, patients’ wing and solarium terraces. Photo: Maija Holma, Alvar Aalto Museum. A color model for Paimio Sanatorium interiors by decorative artist Eino Kauria. Photo: Maija Holma, Alvar Aalto Museum, 2016.Paimio chairs (Artek no 41) in the Paimio Sanatorium lecture room, 1930s. Photo: Gustaf Welin, Alvar Aalto Museum. Aino Aalto resting in a chair on the solarium terrace. Photo: Alvar Aalto, Alvar Aalto Museum, 1930s. Main stairs of Paimio Sanatorium. Photo: Maija Holma, Alvar Aalto Museum.


  • Flickr