On the exhibition of Bruno Decharme’s photo/brut collection at the Robert Capa Contemporary Photography Center
How can an exhibition negotiate the mystique of artistic genius that inevitably takes shape within both market and art historical logics, and the strong relation of photo-based artworks to our collective, shared reality? How can it navigate the aspects of individual narratives and the collective dilemmas embedded within them? The ambiguity that defines French filmmaker and producer Bruno Decharme’s collection of photo-based art brut works also permeates its exhibition at the Robert Capa Contemporary Photography Center, titled PHOTO/BRUT – Instinctive Photography – Insights into the Bruno Decharme Collection from Paris. By examining the narration of the exhibition, and the structure of the collection, along with its relation to everyday imaging, the text considers the nature of this ambiguity and its subversive potential the concept may or may not have taken into consideration.

Installation view of PHOTO I BRUT – Instinctive Photography – Insights into the Bruno Decharme Collection from Paris. Photo credit to Robert Capa Contemporary Photography Center.
Decharme’s engagement with art brut dates back to the 1970s, when he first encountered Jean Dubuffet’s collection at the Collection de l’Art Brut in Lausanne. Dubuffet’s ideas are central to understanding the origins of art brut. Although the term was coined by him in 1945, its origins can be traced back to the second half of the 19th century, when early studies on the artistic expressions – primarily drawings and paintings – of psychiatric patients began to emerge. In his 1949 manifesto Art Brut Preferred to the Cultural Arts (L’art brut préféré aux arts culturels), Dubuffet contrasts the art produced within institutional frameworks by “intellectuals” with that of psychiatric patients, calling for a rejection of an art he describes as “impenetrable,” “empty, without magnetism, without vision,” in favour of works that are “completely pure” and “guided by the creator’s own impulses.” [1] In doing so, he positioned art brut as both a counterpoint to and a critique of the dominant artistic canon.
Decharme recalls his encounter with Dubuffet’s legacy being framed by the philosophy of the 1970s, marked by the observations of Deleuze about marginalized groups and the anti-psychiatric approach. Since then, he and curator and art writer Barbara Safarova have built an extensive collection of more than 5000 artworks created by individuals of various backgrounds and mental health diagnoses. As of 2021, a large portion of Decharme’s collection – 947 works, to be exact – was donated to the Centre Pompidou. Safarova noted that the inclusion of part of the collection in a prestigious modern and contemporary art museum represented an important step, as art brut is often regarded as a “ghetto term” that prevents these works from being recognized as equal components of art history. The donation signaled that, despite its still marginal status, art brut is to be considered part of twentieth-century art history.
Although Decharme's practice as a collector has been largely oriented toward preservation and public access — as evidenced by the donation to the Centre Pompidou and by the non-profit association abcd, which he founded in 1999 — the line between advocacy and ownership in the world of art brut is not always a clear one.
The photographic section of the collection has remained in Decharme’s possession, as he wishes to continue exploring the possible interpretations of photo/brut [2], which has led to the exhibition currently on view at the Robert Capa Contemporary Photography Center in Budapest. The seed of its concept was originally planted at Les Rencontres d’Arles in 2019, where – despite Decharme's own misgivings about the contradiction between the festival's focus on the contemporary art market and the historically market-opposing stance of art brut – the exhibition was deemed a huge success, prompting the collection to travel to New York, Brussels, Luzern, and now Budapest. However, this international interest in photo/brut is nowhere near long-standing, as Safarova emphasized: as the 20th-century discourse on art brut largely focused on drawings and paintings, curators and institutions only began to turn their attention to photo-based works in the 2000s. It is worth acknowledging that introducing this material to a Budapest audience for the first time – in a context where the questions surrounding photo/brut are still largely unfamiliar to the general public – is itself no small curatorial undertaking.
Dubuffet himself did not take art created via technological apparatuses into consideration – yet the accelerating transformations in media culture and the growing saturation of images have eventually started seeping into the creative dealings of art brut, Safarova explained. The exhibition text at PHOTO/BRUT – Instinctive Photography – Insights into the Bruno Decharme Collection from Paris highlights that the collection’s artworks convey parallel narratives to the official, linear art history. It also provides definitions for art brut and photo/brut, emphasizing the importance of the personal experiences of the artists. It is worth noting here the use of the quite specific language generally surrounding art brut in the form of adjectives such as “instinctive”, “dramatic”, “disturbing”, “spontaneous”, and “raw”. To the curators’ credit, they refrained from the use of the more attention-grabbing distinctions [3], yet the text still foreshadows a more serious issue with the narration of the exhibition.
Certain photo/brut artworks of the collection were produced through deliberate artistic vision, such as the late disability rights activist and prominent artist of the scene Alice Wong, whose ‘painting photographs’ turn everyday images such as family or still life photographs into intensely vivid abstractions. Some of the artworks were created as part of art programs facilitated by care institutions, while others once belonged to completely unknown individuals, who perhaps never envisioned their works being presented at all. However, the artworks cannot easily be categorized by their producers, given their diverse cultural backgrounds, different housing conditions, mental health diagnoses, and levels of self-sufficiency and of access to care or help.

The “painting photographs” of Alice Wong, ©Bruno Decharme Collection. Installation and photo credit to Robert Capa Contemporary Photography Center.
Thus, the narrative of the exhibition does not seek to establish well-defined sections. Instead, it presents the works in a loose arrangement, drawing on brief accounts of the artists’ personal lives and accompanied by the framing of star curators. In doing so, the exhibition is segmented into individual 'universes', though the three rooms housing them are each quietly organized around their own curatorial sub-focus – a logic that remains implicit, disclosed only to those who look closely, unsupported by wall texts or other guidance. Safarova noted that the biographical approach gained prominence alongside the emergence of more ethically responsible curatorial and institutional practices. As some artists are unable to speak or advocate for themselves [4], art brut today calls on art historians and curators to address questions concerning artists’ personal backgrounds, their intentions in making art, and the ways in which their works are presented and interpreted. Accordingly, the Decharme-collection is grounded in the biographical research of each represented artist – its adaptation by the curators showing how the exhibition was intended to stay within an already existing framework.
The intention must be acknowledged; however, it brings up the question of whether the ethical dimension of exhibition-making only means the fair presentation of the artists. When the artworks are framed through individual mythologies – particularly in the case of the artists presented here, whose biographies are more often than not marked by traumatic events and detailed accounts of their mental health – the experience begins to feel less like an exhibition and more like an exercise in spectacle. How are we supposed to talk – or as a matter of fact, write – about artworks, clamped in the vice of personal, and often tragic fate without having to risk the reinforcement of the dramatic, sensationalist language that, while readily absorbed by both the art market and art historical discourse, forbids constructive dialogue?

Miroslav Tichy: Untitled photographs 1960–1995 ©Bruno Decharme Collection. Installation photo credit to Robert Capa Contemporary Photography Center.
The focus on biography without additional context makes meaningful engagement with the artworks difficult, as it continuously shifts our attention to the ethical concerns around their representation. One of the most well-known artists in the exhibition, Miroslav Tichý’s poorly executed, yet aesthetically strangely beautiful series may serve as an illustrative example here. The photographs depict the vague figures of women, their bodies fragmented by the framing – an exposed leg here, a half-undressed torso there. Women, going about their daily lives, enjoying a stroll or a day at the beach, and largely unaware that a man in the distance is obsessively photographing certain parts of their bodies using his handmade apparatus. The showcasing of Tichý’s photographs in Hungary – where significant progress is still needed regarding women’s bodily autonomy and safety – with little to no context provided about what his work represented twenty years ago when it first received critical acclaim, and how it might be understood today may signal a superficial approach.
While the biography-based narrative maintains a strong grip on the viewer's attention, the structure of the collection certainly has some food for thought to offer. From montages and collages, typologies, staged photographs and self-portraits, to pinhole camera pictures, the curators' selection showcases an impressive variety of the use of photography. The artworks deploy a range of photographic materials, including found photographs and newspaper cutouts, as well as images appearing on television screens, revealing the network of images surrounding us from an entirely new perspective. Even more intriguingly, the collection absorbs ready-made series of private photographs, each displaying a unique quality – not necessarily in their visual, but in what they might represent. They are not photographs we would come across by flipping through family albums; instead, they are representations of how day to day life could be navigated, a deeply personal need to gain a sense of control over one’s narrative, to render something important visible, to create order, to exercise – or even abuse – power.

Zorro: Untitled photograph, 1967 © Bruno Decharme Collection.
The captivating self-portraits of an unidentified man, retrospectively named as ‘Zorro’ display a playful yet well-thought-out endeavor, resulting in an archive of almost a hundred portraits. Despite the lack of information about him or his intentions, the composition of his portraits; the dramatic, surrealist quality of the lighting; the intense facial expressions evoking the actors of the silent film era; and the choice to dress up in a pair of buttoned-up, leather greaves, sometimes matched with leather clothing evokes a deliberate expression of ownership over identity.

The polaroids with handwritten notes of Horst Ademeit ©Bruno Decharme Collection. Installation and photo credit to Robert Capa Contemporary Photography Center.

Horst Ademeit: Polaroid with handwritten notes, 1991–2003 © Bruno Decharme Collection
The series of polaroid snapshots taken by Horst Ademeit also exhibit a strong sense of purpose, even without having to know his personal intentions. Some photographs depict ordinary street views, others repeatedly show the same visual, at times in different lighting conditions. The documentation appears similar to a meticulous investigation, its story unfolding in Ademeit’s nearly unreadable, yet exhaustive notes scribbled on the frames of the polaroids. Learning of his obsessive search for “cold rays” supposedly contaminating our environment clears up his intentions of making the invisible visible.

Günther K. & Margaret: Untitled photographs and other belongings © Bruno Decharme Collection. Installation credit to Robert Capa Contemporary Photography Center. Photo credit to the author.
Another intriguing series in the collection is titled “Margaret”. The snapshots, occupying a whole wall, depict a young woman in diverse settings: at times outside, but mostly in the confines of seemingly hotel bedrooms. At various stages of undress, she looks at the lens calmly, playfully, sometimes coyly, occasionally appearing disengaged from being photographed. The large number of portraits of Margaret gradually develops into an archive of control: photographs of her clothing and crumpled bed sheets appear alongside receipts of hotel stays and restaurant visits, as well as an empty blister pack of contraception pills – forming an assemblage that suggests a narrative of possessive relations and asymmetrical intimacy.

Günther K. & Margaret: Untitled photographs and other belongings © Bruno Decharme Collection. Installation and photo credit to Robert Capa Contemporary Photography Center.
The varied uses of everyday photographs and diverse intentions behind them places the photo/brut collection in an ambiguous position. Approaching it through its multilayered relationship to everyday imaging may evoke the way art historian Geoffrey Batchen understood ambiguity in connection to “vernacular photography” – a term he coined in the early 2000s, around the time photo/brut began gaining recognition. In one of his lectures, Batchen argues that only ambiguity could bring forth the power to disrupt the status quo – in his example, with the integration of vernacular photography, its ambiguous position could prompt the rewriting of the entire history of photography. For Batchen the key question is not whether the vernacular should be included within institutional frameworks; rather, he asks how these photographs might be incorporated so as not to consolidate but to subvert existing hierarchies, allowing for their rethinking from a vernacular perspective. This would require moving beyond fixed categories and definitions and taking a closer look at what photographs do.
Applying this idea of ambiguity to Decharme’s photo/brut collection, the diverse, parallel histories merging within its framework seemingly sets up the potential of subversion. However, the emphasis on individual mythologies so apparent in the exhibition structure risk fixing the works into the confines of personal universes, rendering them to become static spectacles, susceptible to sensationalism, and easily consumable on the market. This approach drives us into the invisible and immovable wall of othering – one that, when presented in an exhibition setting, remains limited in its capacity to engage people in meaningful dialogue on the relevance of the status quo.
To refer to curator Judit Szalipszki's observation in an accompanying panel discussion, the narrative framing of an exhibition plays a crucial role in shifting attention away from the personal stories and diagnoses toward the artworks themselves. Inviting viewers to engage with the exhibition in more situated ways may help foreground questions of privacy, consent, agency, and ownership [5] – underlying dilemmas embedded in the works, and concerning all of us in some capacity. Shifting attention away from the sensationalized individual genius that both market logic and art historical narrative tend to construct, we may instead consider how the diverse uses of photographic materials bind the works to a vastly differently experienced, yet still shared reality. A more thorough thematization of this ambiguity can serve as an interpretive anchor, bringing the works into relation by revealing forms of interconnectedness shaped through our practices of taking, interpreting, using, and living with photographs.
The exhibition titled PHOTO | BRUT – Instinctive Photography – Insights into the Bruno Decharme Collection from Paris is on view till the 26th of April at the Robert Capa Contemporary Photography Center.
Curators: Emese Mucsi, András Váradi
[1] See the English translation of Dubuffet’s manifesto here:
https://nihilsentimentalgia.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/dubuffet_manifesto_artbrut.pdf
[2] Throughout my essay, I will use a slash when writing photo/brut, referring to both Bruno Decharme and the exhibition title. In our personal discussion, Decharme explained how he prefers to use the slash as a way to signal the ambiguity surrounding the term.
[3] A few of them would be “heart-wrenching”, “brutal”, and “eccentric”, or “solitary prophets”, as referred to the artists of the collection in an interview with Bruno Decharme.
[4] These could range from the unknown identity to the mental health diagnoses of the artists.
[5] The “Ethical issues surrounding the presentation of works by individuals living with psychiatric conditions” panel discussion was part of the conference titled WHAT IS PHOTO BRUT? – At the Crossroads of Art, Photography and Psychiatry. Participants: Bruno Decharme, Benedek Farkas, Barbara Safarova, Judit Szalipszki. Moderated by István Virágvölgyi (Artistic Director, Robert Capa Contemporary Photography Center – Budapest, Hungary)
Featured image: Installation view of PHOTO I BRUT – Instinctive Photography – Insights into the Bruno Decharme Collection from Paris. Photo credit to Capa Centre.




