Creative Process: The Tarot de Marseille as Architect of the Invisible and of Inspiration

May 29

3 min read

A photo inspired by the Strength card of the tarot by Yes Photographies

Inspiration through the Tarot de Marseille

I am often asked: ‘But how do you manage to have so many ideas?’ It is true that the diversity of my themes can make your head spin. For one man, it is a lot. A ‘little man’ even, I should say, since I am 1m68. But as Alejandro Jodorowsky — an immense thinker of the Tarot if ever there was one — once said with mischief, that makes me a ‘master 68’.

Beyond the joke, this reference is not trivial. For if my mind is constantly bubbling, I sometimes need a structure, a mirror, or a spark to channel this energy. This is where my silent travelling companion comes in: the Tarot de Marseille as a source of inspiration.

Not divination, but vision

Let’s be clear right away: I do not draw cards to find out whether my photo session will go well or whether I will win the lottery. I do not use the Tarot to predict, but to build.

The Tarot is a reservoir of universal archetypes. It is a visual encyclopaedia of human experience. When I run dry, or when I want to give a particular depth to an image, I turn to the arcana.

I have, quite literally, staged the cards: I photographed my version of Justice, of The Empress, of Temperance, or of The Star. It is a fascinating exercise in style. But my ‘secret’ use lies elsewhere. It lies in induction.

The Arcanum as Scenic Intention

Sometimes the idea is not to show the card, but to feel its energy. If I draw The Fool (that wanderer walking towards the unknown), I won’t necessarily ask the model to carry a bundle and be chased by a dog. What I will do is try to breathe into the image an idea of absolute freedom, of detachment, of irrepressible movement.

If the intention is guided by La Maison Dieu, I am not looking for a ruined tower. I look for the emotion of rupture, of explosion, of that almost frightening joy that comes when everything collapses so as to be reborn.

The card becomes a musical note, a frequency to which I tune my camera and my art direction.

The Numerology of the Soul: Connecting with the Model

This is where the process becomes truly intimate, and it is often what creates the ‘vibratory intensity’ that people feel in some of my images.

I sometimes calculate the birth arcanum of my models (based on their date of birth). It is not a gimmick. It is a key. It lets me understand one facet of their personality through play, sometimes a hidden facet or, on the contrary, a driving force.

If I am photographing someone whose arcanum is Strength (XI), I know I can look in their gaze for a quiet power, a mastery of instincts. We will work on a grounded, solid pose.
If she is linked to The Moon (XVIII), we will explore dream, intuition, perhaps a share of shadow or watery melancholy.

By sharing this symbolism with her before the shoot, something happens. The model no longer poses merely to be ‘beautiful’. She poses to embody a truth that belongs to her. She feels seen, understood, and that changes everything in her gaze towards the lens.

Conclusion: The Invisible in the Visible

In the end, finding ideas is not difficult when you accept to dialogue with symbols that have existed for centuries. The Tarot is a language.

In my creative process, it is the bridge between the visible (the body, the light, the set) and the invisible (emotion, archetype, soul). It is what lets me, from the height of my ‘master 68’, aim a little higher than plain reality, and try to capture, for an instant, something universal. And personally, I am open-minded and very playful, so I love it.