Taking its name from the affectionate slang used to describe a neighborhood bar, the Rades series captures and showcases life in French bistros, which are now “spaces on the verge of disappearance.”
While there were indeed over 200,000 local bars (troquets) in France in the 1960s, the number of liquor licenses (Licences IV) has drastically plummeted, barely reaching 40,000 at present. Documenting these closures could have been one approach—to depict empty glasses, the absence at the counter, and the decrepitude of the plaster.
However, this series chooses to reveal the half-raised curtain rather than the lowered one, portraying these vibrant establishments, warmly animated by their owners and regulars who frequent them daily.
With over 220 immersions carried out over 4 years in our bars across the country, the Rades series tenderly presents a panorama of portraits, details, and everyday scenes from these “resistant” places, now in contention to be recognized as part of France’s intangible cultural heritage.
The idea dawned on him after his Buvettes series, which focused on the culinary specialties of French stadium snack bars. While leaning against the bar in the South of France, he became aware of the stories and history embedded within these places. Initially drawn to the Café des Sports, the most popular bar in France, he eventually decided to document bars across the entire country, creating a true cartography of France’s watering holes, featured at the end of the book.
His images come together to create a grand portrait of the French bar, capturing its patrons, pillars, and regulars, its mascots and acrobats, its balloons and foamy drinks, its water mints and Orangina, its peanuts and croissants, its table soccer and scratch games.
Some liken him to Raymond Depardon, while others draw parallels to Martin Parr. Guillaume Blot is neither, yet both at the same time. When he traverses France in his “Blotmobile,” reminiscent of Depardon’s campervan in the 2000s, he directs his attention towards the people. Each person he encounters has a story to tell, whether it’s Marius with his rosé-limonade or Laury, the European accordion champion at the age of 12.
Eschewing the biting satire for which Parr has been known, Guillaume Blot observes them with a humor infused with a tender touch. These local joints are his local joints. He knows them and cherishes them; they epitomize the anecdotal and poetic France that he constantly seeks to magnify.