Mert & Marcus at PHILLIPS Paris, when fashion entered the room

For years, going to Paris Photo was never just going to a fair. It was also the perfect excuse to walk around Paris at leisure, to enter galleries, seek out exhibitions, and continue expanding that personal map in which fashion photography began to occupy, for me, an increasingly serious, more collectible place, closer to art than to a simple editorial commission.

On one of those trips, I went into PHILLIPS Paris to see Mert & Marcus: Works 2001–2014. The exhibition arrived at the Parisian headquarters of the house after its run in London and coincided with Paris Photo, making the visit an almost natural gesture during those days of absolute immersion. I remember it as one of those experiences that stick with you not because of the noise, but because of the quality of everything: the space, the scale of the prints, the cleanliness of the installation, the graphics, the feeling of being before a very precise and very luxurious version of contemporary imagery.

"When artifice also holds truth"

I had been following the work of Mert Alas and Marcus Piggott for a long time. I was interested in their unique blend of sensuality, artifice, tension, and technical perfection. They didn't just photograph fashion; they built a universe. One where glamour ceased to be superficial and became a language, an atmosphere, a very specific form of visual fiction. Their career was already marked by magazines like Vogue, Interview, Vanity Fair, and W, and by campaigns for Dior, Versace, and Yves Saint Laurent, but seeing those images gathered in a gallery had a different weight. The exhibition celebrated the duo's twenty years of collaboration and brought together eighteen works, nine in black and white and nine in color, put up for sale for the first time. That fact, in itself, spoke volumes about a cultural moment: fashion photography, long admired from outside the art market, was naturally claiming its place here. Not as an appendix, nor as a minor genre, but as a work of art.

What impressed me most then was recognizing many of those images that were already part of my imagination. Some of Kate Moss, others of Lara Stone, others I had been seeing reproduced in magazines, campaigns, or books for years. But it's one thing to know an image and quite another to encounter it in front of you, well-produced, well-framed, breathing in a space like that. That's when I understood their power even more. The large prints, the silence of the installation, and the sophistication of PHILLIPS didn't embellish the photographs: they simply gave them the place they deserved.

Over time, that impression has not faded. On the contrary. Some of those works have stayed with me in other ways, also through the Taschen books dedicated to the duo, published in limited editions and conceived as collector's items. Perhaps that's why this exhibition still occupies such a clear place in my memory: because it very well summarized a period of my life when looking was also a way of building discernment. And because in Mert & Marcus I always found something I still value today: an image capable of being excessive and precise at the same time.

"Paris, always again"

I haven't been back to that space. But I don't need to. It has stayed where good exhibitions stay: not in the agenda or the archive, but in one's gaze.