Photo zine, Florence Mercier & Catherine Hotte, 28 pgs, le collectif correct, lecollectifcorrect.bigcartel.com, $8
There is a moment in the spring, when the bottom layer of seasonal depression finally melts, and flowers appear on the trees. Flipping through the pages of Brick transported me back to those shoulder months, where we slowly emerge from our collective hibernation, still carrying the weight of the winter. The effect is perhaps even better received from le collectif correct, who are based in Montreal — those winters are no joke.
Images of fruit on chopping boards bookend the zine, out of focus, flash on: a small moment of sustenance. From this very inward starting point, we step cautiously outside, observing piles of architectural rubble and spring growth, decay and renewal. A few humans show up, caught in introspection, appearing unaware of the camera.
Although this is a collaborative zine, the images are not captioned and it’s better for it. The mood is one of a collective reawakening of the senses. Small, intricately textured, and so well observed. Photo zines are too often the purview of men documenting their underground lifestyles, making le collectif correct’s offering a breath of cold spring air. More, please.