Belle-Île-en-Mer, an island off the western coast of France, is the anchor to Victor Levy’s photography and a constant point of visual and emotional reference. Over the years, he’s returned there repeatedly, watching the landscape change alongside his own perception of it. “The more I take pictures of the same place, the more I renew my practice,” he explains.
At first, Victor was drawn to what was already considered beautiful on the scenic island. Over time, however, his gaze shifted. Instead of capturing conventional images of the stunning landscapes, he began focusing on what felt personal. “I started to take pictures only I could see,” he said. Much of this comes through in his treatment of the horizon. He explains that rather than photographing the island itself, he often frames the space around it, as if looking outward instead of inward, creating a subtle tension in the work between an attachment to a place paired with a subtle sense of distance.
While Belle-Île-en-Mer may be his spiritual home, Levy is currently studying in Paris, moving comfortably between landscape and street work. “I figured out that I am pretty happy with my practice wherever I am,” he said.
Technically, Victor does not feel the need to tether his photography to reality. By using slow shutter speeds and intentional camera movement, he transforms what’s in front of his lens into something closer to painting. “The photograph no longer depends on the subject, but on the artist,” he said. His influences reflect that approach. Painters like Claude Monet inform his attention to light and repetition, while Mark Rothko shapes his focus on color and abstraction. By isolating horizons and flattening space, his images become fields of color rather than traditional landscapes.
Victor often works slowly, setting up his camera and waiting for long periods of time. “I wait for hours and I admire the horizon,” he said. The act of photographing becomes less about capturing and more about observing, extending the interaction with the subject. In his Paris street photography, Victor also explores new approaches. A recent Vivian-Maier-inspired project, titled Armand Le Songe, involved assembling anonymous photographs into an archive attributed to the fictional photographer Armand Le Songe, blurring the line between discovery and invention.
Victor’s decision to pursue photography and attend art school came as a revelation during dissatisfied shifts at a supermarket. “I wanted to find a meaning in what I’ll be doing,” he says, “I’m so much happier now by doing what I really love.”