Alex Bex

How did you get into making art?

My first venture into art was through music. As a teenager in France, I played the drums in a couple of bands and ended up writing the lyrics for our songs since I was the only one fluent in English at the time. This led me to experiment with prose and poetry for many years. I believe this had a strong impact on the way I take pictures. It taught me how to watch and observe, to look for subtleties in unexpected places, and to read between the lines. It helped me develop how I express ideas and emotions.

Before solely working as a photographer, I spent most of my twenties working as a project manager for a couple of record labels, which allowed me to get close to music artists. I had already been taking photos, inspired by my dad, who collected analog cameras and encouraged me to try photography. One thing led to another, and I found myself taking press photos for artists I met through the job. The possibility of having a visual impact in the world of music and the idea of collaborating with artists was appealing. I believe working in press relations helped me deepen my understanding of the power and intricacies of media representation, which I now apply to my work. It’s only been a couple of years since I became interested in photography as a purely artistic medium. After moving to Berlin in 2022, I entered a school of fine art photography, a turning point in my practice.

What are you currently working on?

My series ‘Memories of Dust’ is an ongoing project. As I write this, I’m traveling throughout my home-state of Texas for my project, spending time on ranches, and participating in the daily life of the local community. In addition to photographing the people here, I also learn about their lives—their routines and hardships, the stories and realities of the cowboy—contrasting these with the Western myth constructed by visual media. I particularly enjoy exploring the boundaries and grey areas of the cowboy stereotype through the actions and conversations I have with ranchers, whether they touch on traditional masculinity, cowboy mythology, or Texan politics and culture.

In parallel to this work, I’ve also started a photography project about young male friendships. This project is set in my hometown of Balma, near Toulouse in France—a non-place caught between the city and the countryside, offering teenagers the freedom to roam unsupervised and write their own stories in secret places. Still following my principal theme of masculinity, my interest here lies in exploring male friendships, which can be more subtle and complex than traditional romantic relationships. Especially at a young age and within a group, what happens when a friendship isn’t good for you anymore? This is a subject we definitely don’t talk about enough, and I find it particularly interesting and important in the context of masculinity today.

What inspired you to get started on this body of work?

The opportunity I had of growing up in several countries and experiencing a variety of cultural and socio-demographic situations throughout my life has exposed me to diverse approaches to masculinity. This has led me to reflect on my own maleness and to rethink and challenge the social constructions around masculinity that I grew up with. I’m particularly interested in how visual media has influenced our interpretation of gender roles and the visual cues and symbols typically used to construct and express hegemonic masculinity. For example, Westerns and other films with strong male leads have shaped my beliefs about what a “real” man should be. While there are positive aspects to how male heroes are portrayed, I believe sometimes this narrative can be misleading and not always a healthy image for young boys who look up to these heroes.

By going to Texas and meeting the real-life versions of my childhood heroes, I want to help rethink the narrative of the male role model in a way that is more progressive for society. My work allows me to embark on an introspective journey, and I hope, in turn, to help other men with similar backgrounds reflect on their positions and become more self-aware, so we can progress together, reevaluating and developing a new understanding of modern predominant masculinity.

Who are your favorite artists?

I usually mention Jeff Wall when I’m asked this question. He’s been a big influence, even though my work is quite different from his. I particularly like the way he captures little moments of life that might otherwise go unnoticed, by recreating scenes that could almost be mistaken for documentary or snapshot images.

My latest artistic inspiration is Karla Voleau. Her recent work, Another Love Story, is a big inspiration, especially for my next project. I love how she reclaims her painful separation by retelling and re-enacting her past relationship, using modern visual mediums like cellphone imagery. She’s not afraid to be vulnerable, which is always a powerful thing in a project. A friend, talking about art projects, once told me: ‘If it’s an uncomfortable topic, it probably means that it’s worth talking about’.

Where do you go to discover new artists?

This might be an obvious one, but I would say Instagram is the easiest channel for me to discover new artists. However, I don’t think the social media feed provides a good insight into the artists’ work—many of them aren’t curated properly or don’t accurately represent their portfolio. Still, it offers a glimpse into someone’s artistic universe, and if I’m intrigued, I usually end up exploring their website, which hopefully leads to attending their next exhibitions. For me, exhibitions are where I truly determine if I like a photographer’s work. Print sizes, presentation techniques, and the use of space are very important aspects of a project for me. I’m drawn to the idea of the “show”—the performance aspect of art—and the concept that the form of presentation is not a fixed constant but can vary from one exhibition to another.