I tell stories from my personal domain that are specific, yet universal. Returning to similar subjects, narrating them in different ways — I try to peel of layers, touching upon visceral aspects of life — whether it is in a film, a photograph, a performance or an installation. I am interested in exploring a world that resides between dream and a wakeful state. A realm of images, sounds and fragmented tales without the necessity of an obvious narrative. I hope they will function as a catalyst for the viewer’s personal fantasies and be a door into self discovery.
— Florence Montmare


Scenes from an island

Bergmancenter Fårö June 24 - September 30

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I sought myself and found the Island. The Island forces you to revisit memories, dreams, fears, shortcomings. In the silence time expands and I hear my heartbeat. There is a slight chill in the air and the ocean is waiting like a mirror.

Midway in life, I found myself standing on the barren shores, a wild and rocky pile of land facing the Baltic sea. It was a strange uncompromising attraction. I saw my mother’s Swedish origin a stone’s throw away and father’s Cretan heritage merge into this one landscape.

I returned over and over again. At first it was only the landscape that I photographed. With time I populated the images, staging scenarios in various locations. 

There are interiors and exteriors; landscape sans figures and landscape with figures transitioning through it. Bodies in motion contrasted to the desolate topography and its dramaturgy

— mountains that have corrupted, the earth, the water and the air. A contemplation on evanescence and transience; body, movement and the surrounding elements. 




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Reciprocity Failure

In 2002 my relationship was slowly falling apart. While trying to save our relationship it became obvious the break had become inevitable. As a way of documenting our last days together, I started making one photograph every night. The camera shutter was left opened for 3 to 8 hours every night in front of our bed in a darkened bedroom, and as the beginning morning light arrived the exposure was interrupted. It is a private journal, documenting time and memory, where present meets past.  


...when love and companionship encounters longing and disconnection
— Florence Montmare
An enlightening exhibition about love and loss... inspired by impending heart break... anyone who has experienced it just want to move on, but you were documenting it!
— Contessa Brewer, NBC
Florence Montmare took that experience and turned it on its head ... incredibly beautiful and, dare we say it, quite poignant.
— TimeOut New York
A multi-sensory experience of the relationship and its demise
— New York Post
A view from the foot of her bed, the most intimate of place you can find suddenly becomes universal
— Posture Magazine


Before my father passed away he said: ‘One day you will realize where you belong, and you will go home.’ This is about that journey.
— Florence Montmare

Growing up in Sweden, I often felt torn between cultures: Sweden, Greece and Austria (where I was born). My father left early to start a new life in his native Greece. In 2007 he passed away in cancer, leaving behind an olive grove up in the hills in Crete. Could I live in what had been given to me, in what had come to symbolize my cultural heritage and roots?

As an experiment I traveled to Crete to spend entire nights in the grove. Essentially a diary the work is part of an ongoing photographic investigation of metaphors for impermanence, transience and a search for an authentic home. My body asleep in the hammock, dissolves and re-materializes through night-long exposures, all while the surrounding grove is fixed. The work examines the urge of hiding away from distractions of modern world and a longing of “going back” to a simple and authentic coexistence with nature, A relationship that is could be harmonious, yet ambiguous, contradictory and exclusive. Created a silent ritual, the body performing in front of the camera, it exposes the vulnerability of surface and physical aspects of man and nature.


Space Untitled 


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