Olivier Longchamp
Being a professional photographer for almost twenty years, Odile Meylan grew up on a small farm in the "Gros-de-Vaud", an agricultural region in western Switzerland.
From her childhood as a peasant’s daughter, she kept a contrasted heritage. On the one hand, there were these strong memories, the song of swallows in the barn, the scent of apple stacks, and sun on the wheat. But on the other hand, she couldn’t forget the embarrassment, or even the shame, of just being “a poor peasant’s girl”, and going to school with muddy boots and stable smell.
To reclaim and, in some way, reconcile with her identity, and these earthy roots, Odile decided to turn her sensitive lense towards someone who had always been there, like a part of the landscape. A character who had always seemed both obvious and distant, though his farm “La Rustériaz”, only stands a few hundred meters away from “La Côte”, Odile’s family farm. But she had never taken the time, or simply had the opportunity, to spend time with him, to watch him work. So, for one year, she made up for lost time. Over the seasons, which for a peasant are more than just pretexts for changing his wardrobe, she accompanied him, with his cows and cats.
His name is Olivier Longchamp, in his fifties, he is a farmer and a farrier. Every wrinkle in his hands tells about his work. He doesn’t speak much, complains even less, and likes laughing. With his thick accent, he calls a spade a spade, loves his animals, and leads them to the slaughterhouse. As Odile’s father did. As human beings have done for ten thousand years.