Roland Barthes is exceedingly trivial and delicate. The reason Barthes, who wished to meet each moment sincerely and completely, became interested in photography is by no means coincidental.
While looking at a photograph of Napoleon’s youngest brother, Jérôme, the astonishment Barthes experienced became a lifelong memory. When Barthes viewed the photograph, he wasn't struck by the emperor in the picture, but by the eyes that had seen the emperor in person. Barthes was so captivated by this notion that he wrote a book about it. This book, introduced in Korea under the title "Camera Lucida," is Barthes' notes on photography.
The photograph, which records something that clearly existed and was clearly seen, held greater significance for Barthes as a testimony to existence rather than as a recollection of the past. A photograph freezes a moment that can never be repeated, showing nothing else but that specific moment. Unlike paintings, which can feign a reality that never existed, photographs are irrefutable when they depict what has clearly existed. However, I tore Barthes apart and reassembled him into a painting.