With Valou, our story is a story of hair. She blonde, me brunette.
Always searching for the capillary holy grail. Shampoos, treatment, advice… “Do you know a good hairdresser, but, I mean a good one?”
We sent each other photos of haircuts that we swore would suit each other. We checked them out, agreed or didn’t, the way that girlfriends do. Then came the cancer news. It was a shock.
Then the treatment and its consequences. Above all Valou’s anxiety about losing her hair. Even though she was slightly ashamed to admit it, I understood her, without judging her. Last summer, Valou was in very low spirits. She began the last stage of treatment and was very weak. She was as bald as a coot. As I’ve got a lot of hair, I offered to lend her some for the photo. It was above all to make her laugh. Because with or without hair, Valou is my hair gal pal.
And because making her laugh was a way to make her forget her disease.

“It’s done mom you’re cured, you’ve got hair!”
A child’s innocence is simply magnificent. I met Sophie during a wedding. We immediately hit it off... A few months later, Sophie contacted me to take photos of her family.
She spoke to me about her breast cancer, the stages she’d had to endure, the force that she’d found in order to fight this crab, with her children and partner. With this photo, I wanted to show this complicity and this love that helped them fight anxiety so as to continue to live “normally,” hand in hand, or, rather, nose to nose. Love keeps us alive, unites us, and helps us to overcome the worst moments.

“Evil said:
I’ve chosen to welcome it, I’ve chosen to accept it.
I’ve chosen life, I’ve called up my guardian angel.
I wanted to become an actor, I decided, in full awareness.
I rejected compassion, I kept the secret.
The encounter with Chris was like a foregone conclusion,
He dresses my body with words, his work accompanies me and tells my tale.”
— Claire Crétu, the model

“Two different visions owing to two different life experiences: that of a woman who accepted, and mine – I who admire these women who each grapple with this period of life so differently. I’ve got the personal image of my grandmother, with her philosophy the opposite of Claire’s, but both linked by life.
Few words for either of us, but the choice of a calligraphic symbol: that of the bud, sign of rebirth, like spring, flowers…”
— Chris Calvet, the photographer-calligrapher

“What unites us, we two artists, is instinctively expressed in this photo.”
— Claire and Chris

Freddy had just lost his wife to breast cancer.
His young daughter, Julia, as though removed from this terrible misfortune, overflowed with energy.
Disturbed by their hidden suffering, I couldn’t hold back: I had to express it through a photograph. But during the photo-taking session, the love that united them transformed their sorrow into a life process.

What unites us is perhaps banal, trivial, or insane, but… it’s the indestructible love for the other. In the darkest moments, having the power to face, hand in hand, an ordeal, as dreadful as it may be, when the one you love vacillates.
To cope. With an infinite compassion. Without too much complacency.

I’ve known Pierre since childhood.
I’ve always admired his courage, determination, and his capacity to speak freely about his breast cancer. We’d lost touch, but today I’m proud to introduce you to him. He is among the one percent of men affected by this disease. He underwent removal of his left breast and of his right mammary glands in 1981.
By accepting to be photographed alongside his wife Monica, with whom he’s been married fifty-three years and who was his great support during this ordeal, Pierre hopes to raise men’s awareness about breast cancer, that it is not exclusively limited to women, and that we must remain united and show solidarity with regard to this disease.

Breast cancer is not only something involving women or patients afflicted by the disease. This is why I wanted to stage a special moment when the baring of the body doesn’t permit scars to be hidden... Through an intimate photograph, I also wanted to show that force can be drawn from the love of a couple, whether sick or not, and to be united in the fight against breast cancer.

Thirty-four-year-old Sophie and Amandine, both moms with two children, learnt at the same time that they had breast cancer. Thirty kilometers separated them. It was Léa, their mutual friend, who introduced them to each other as soon as they got the news. Since then, they’ve never been apart.

“This photo was taken during one of our twice-weekly gal pal get-togethers, thanks to a discussion about breast reconstruction and the plan to spend a weekend in Amsterdam. Our desire to immortalize a scene “in the Vermeer style,” just for the pleasure of the present moment, arose from a schoolgirl joke beneath the winter light of the north.
What unites us? The energy that kindness, wit, and derision offers us.” – Cécile & Élodie

“Difficult to be heard and taken seriously when the disease affects us when we’re young. Doctors are in denial; so are we. Then everything follows on from there: chemotherapy, operations of the lymph node stations, the cancerous tumor, as well as the breasts, radiotherapy, leading to removal and reconstruction. A vicious circle that enables us to exit from it stronger.”
Thirty-two-year-old Alvine has just exited from it, while twenty-five-year-old Estelle is still fighting.

“What unites us is this invisible and yet so precious bond. It is this ease in understanding each other without even knowing each other. It is this way of sharing, laughing, comforting, and supporting each other. It is this determination to exterminate the enemy, and this wonderful desire to live.”
This is what my cousin Séverine and her “pink sisters,” Angélique, Sandra, Élodie, Justine, and Lucienne explained to me. They didn’t know each other but they decided to join together to participate in this competition.
My mom had also suffered from breast cancer, so I gladly accepted to photograph them as an amateur photographer.
I chose this photo in color so as to reflect life and their sparkling states of mind. To materialize this bond that unites them, they wanted this pink ribbon, emblem of the fight against breast cancer, that runs from one to the next. The sunflower symbolizes the sun and love, this is what we wish for all women confronted with the ordeal of the Big C.

This photo doesn’t tell my story. It’s the story of all the women of the world. What unites us, we women, is the same body that we share. It recounts maternity, sensuality, fragility faced with love, faced with the disease… And this breast, now nourishing, now an enemy.
I am from Réunion Island, a land of union. Our culture, our woman’s body, is what unites us. But we are not all equal confronted by the disease. Some will have it, this cancer, others won’t. Some will get screened, others won’t. Because in our society, in the 21st century, not all women yet have access to medicine and treatment. Equal in rights, but not in facts. A question of money, religion, culture…
Because the taboo subjects of cancer and social inequality are veiled, this woman is veiled. Here the veil acts as an instrument of equality, of gathering together. Whatever the origins, beliefs,or generations. This is what unites us.

During a photo session with Corinne for the “Woman despite everything” Facebook page, as her son Mathis was present, I imagined taking a photo of them from the back because Corinne likes that kind of photo. I didn’t give any particular instructions, except for asking them to sit facing the water.
At a certain moment Mathis leaned his head against his mother and put his arm around her shoulder as though to protect her. It’s usually the parent who has this protective gesture for her child, but in this case it was the child who protected his mother. The disease can disunite people but it also allows them to unite, like here a child and his mother together going through the ordeals inflicted by the disease.

Téva Public Prize 2017
Music puts words to our ills
Music is the link connecting Vanessa to her father. They share the same passion. We took this photo in a deserted château.
I’m an urban exploration photographer. Vanessa was undergoing chemotherapy treatment at the time of this exploration. It was a dangerous task to get inside but a joyful satisfaction for Vanessa once there. We began to explore the large rooms and the beauty of each space.
Then there was this silent piano on the verandah, where a few feeble keys emitted an out-of-tune sound. We lingered there for a long while because the atmosphere exuded a special emotion. It was a superb experience for both of us. Vanessa discovered urban exploration and acted as a model during an illegal visit, filled with adrenaline.
I discovered mise-en-scène with a model.

“When I passed by in the car and the poster caught my eye... It reminded me of our photo taken a little while ago... I immediately thought of us, of our battle, our solidarity, our complicity, our force... The poster with these two faces face to face spoke to me without me reading anything at all relating to breast cancer in it.
It’s true that in this photo what unites us is our haircut :) but, more seriously, I swear that in our eyes, you can see what unites us: lots of LOVE, is our C!”
– Virginie and Ismaël

When my husband and I together told our two sons (nine and two-and-a-half years old) that I was afflicted with cancer, we explained to them that the cancer was a ball I had in my breast… Our son Gabriel (of course a fan of Star Wars) spontaneously said to us: “Mom, the ball in your breast is the Dark Star and us, all three of us, we’re your Jedi and we’ll fight together to save you!” This will remain in my mind forevermore and illustrates perfectly the state of mind that filled us during those very difficult months.
This model used symbolizes my tumor, but to my mind it is not imprinted with negativity because it represents our union, all four of us, against my cancer and the victory resulting from it today.
Making this self-portrait was also a challenge for me as a professional photographer, and being able to produce this image (in front of and behind the camera) was already a personal victory and one more step toward my reconstruction.

Accessit Prize 2017
Our bond can be written, but also sung:
“When you try your best, but you don’t succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can’t sleep
Stuck in reverse
And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can’t replace
When you love someone, but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?
Light will guide you home
And ignite your bones
I will try to fix you” (Coldplay, “Fix You”) Romain for Aurélie

I wanted to photograph a significant moment in the lives of these women and show through this photograph the different symbols uniting them. These women came together to create La Vie Après association after breast cancer passed through their lives. What unites them most of all is their history. I was able to study this unity by being a witness, as a photographer and former cancer patient, to it. I joined with the women through my lens in order to retranscribe with my sensibility this theme that concerns us all.
To unite is to be together beyond our differences, to come together to be together is my subject. Here the balloons evoke the curves and fullness of women and their breasts, their taking flight in unison expresses their release and acceptance in this context tinged with life and freedom.

A mother, three daughters, and a cancer. The smiles of a victory. This photograph reflects love, life, support, and force. I opted for a black and white photograph, to accentuate emotion, and to then highlight the logo for which we all fight. It is staged, it’s true, but in the end only what is natural stands out.
Our mother fought against breast cancer for us, her three daughters. The disease unites us even if we don’t want it. My mother won a battle and us, we will win the war. We share the same blood, we share crazy laughter, tears, hard times. We are united for life, and against this lousy disease.

Two souls, united despite the disease, close, accomplices.
Two hands, connected by this pink ribbon.

In order to accept her breast cancer, twenty-eight-year-old and ultra-vivacious Aurélie decided to organize a therapeutic body-painting session before undergoing surgery. The Roudcolor paint transformed her body by including an open interpretation of cancer so as to make it concrete and help Aurélie to fight it with even more force. For me, this photo perfectly retranscribes what unites us: the artistic representation of the disease permitting us to temporarily forget its medical aspect but also capturing for eternity this instant of hope and doubt, which I wanted to be minimalist in order to leave room for the symbol of the process of accepting. We finished the session with the liberating obliteration of water washing away this ink drenched in blackness.
Aurélie has since undergone the operation. She is now cured and has slowly taken up her professional activity once again. Thinking about Aurélie’s cancer in a different way no doubt helped her in her battle and offers us a beautiful life lesson.

With this photo, we want to show our solidarity with all the women who go through this ordeal.
My mother showed exemplary courage when she learned she had cancer. I accompanied her at the moment she accepted the mastectomy and then the reconstructive surgery.

Here is my mom. And me.
My mom was affected by cancer in the summer of 2014 and underwent a mastectomy of the left breast. She got back on her feet, rebuilt her life, and became stronger than ever. It was she who spoke to me about this competition; passionate about photography, I immediately asked her to pose with me.
I chose to approach the “What Unites Us” theme through this photo because I was shattered by the news of her cancer and was frightened of losing her. I wanted to show the mother-daughter bond in the most natural way possible: naked bodies, like at birth. However, it is no longer the mother who protects her daughter but the daughter who protects her mother against the disease.
I also wanted to bring to the fore the force that unites us, because it is possible to continue to live after this ordeal. The disease is not an end in itself.
My mom isn’t an Olympic champion, but she is a hero: my hero.

What unites us? Family ties, from the mother to the child, the nourishing breast that gives milk to generations upon generations and initiates growth.
It seemed primordial to me to throw a spotlight on the mother-daughter bond; the breast symbolizes the love for the child through the transmission of life… but it is also the subject of necessary treatments for which the Pink Ribbon strives.
This photo reverses the protective relationship. Now older, the daughter wants to protect the breast that nourished her. She embraces her mother and, with deep tenderness, encourages her to preserve what she cherishes so much… Like she will do when she becomes an adult. Awareness through others, future generations, gratitude, the life connection.
I wanted a simple image, a chiaroscuro signifying the breakthrough of life that is always threatened, the lighting emphasizing only the profile of the daughter watching out for her mother, together, united, bared skin, full of modesty and tenderness.
My thanks to my friends who posed.

Grand Jury Prize 2017
Ten years, this year. Cured!
My model wanted to capture this victory over life and to prove that femininity still exists after cancer. The theme proposed for this edition was obvious for her: what unites us? Life, quite simply!
To produce this photo, I used only the light coming from the sky in order to embellish this femininity and this lust for life that allowed her to fight the disease. A digression, as she likes to say, between her life as a woman and as a mom. Her force? Her two boys, aged one and four at the time. An eternal bond.

ETogether...
The competition’s theme inspired me for two reasons: because of an encounter with two women, a couple, and my experience of recently coping with my son’s journey through cancer.
It seemed rather natural to me to approach the subject with two women and in the most simple and sober way possible.
This photograph was taken in a studio in soft light; black and white; square format. Without giving orders, I wanted my models to adopt a pose familiar to them. It was a question of suggesting without saying.
Who better than a female couple can understand, feel, support each other, fight. We can imagine this scene after the news.
The two women embrace tenderly while keeping a certain distance; one with a strong, candid, and calm gaze, facing us, facing the disease. Her companion, accommodating, with a slight smile, seems to be saying to herself: we’ll be stronger, as if by defiance. We are here in what connects us, what unites rather than differentiates us. Together is everything

Taken at the moment my breast cancer was announced, this photo represents the sensation of being divided up, physically as much as psychologically, which followed.
Treatment and operations would come, targeting the cancerous cells, “unfastening me” from the parts of my body that were sick or would be potentially sick in the future (my breasts) in order to replace them with prostheses. My body had become a puzzle of which certain pieces would be definitively removed, and others replaced.
What unites us is the reconstruction work of the puzzle – of the body image – that follows the disease and its treatment; what unites us is the shared involvement of the team of doctors and nurses, the patient, and her support group, so as to put the puzzle back together. .

I brought together seventeen women of different ages (six of whom had undergone operations) who didn’t necessarily know each other before the photos were taken.
To illustrate the “What Unites Us” theme, I wanted to show what flows between the women: transmission (the young women surrounding the older woman), joy, the combative side (linked to the forward movement), a chain with a woman at the front and another at the back outside the frame in order to suggest what there is to come… I didn’t want to show the dark side of the disease because I admire the vitality and energy these women exude. I wanted to pay homage to them through something rousing, which doesn’t frighten, and which we’re all capable of: to keep an optimistic and positive image in mind. As my idea took shape in front of the ocean, I asked them to arrive wearing white in order to create a unity with the symbolism of water—feminine, purifying, and maternal. I treated this photo in a simple way, in color for its naturalness.
The girls shared many things and much laughter after the session.

This photo depicts what has united women for years, since Marie Curie… It’s the battle women fight, the pink ribbon, Mary’s battle still today. All the women of the past are connected to the women of today in this dogged determination to win…

Inspired by the painting by Botticelli (Primavera ca. 1482), I wanted to show the Grace of models united against breast cancer. The Women find themselves in a utopian pink bubble. Only black and white features on certain Women, which contrasts wonderfully with the atmosphere exuded by the models.
They are all delicately connected in such a way as to create a dancing circle and to symbolize the life cycle. Like Botticelli’s painting, the Three Graces are the allegories of Beauty, Chastity, and Faithfulness. It is a scene of happiness, of succession, based on the three ages of woman.
The young, bare woman symbolizes the purity and innocence youth may have against this disease. The more mature Women watch over this young girl: they protect her.
This photo depicts a different facet of cancer: that made up of joy and humanity, which unites people confronted by the disease.

“I confronted cancer in 2013, then again in 2016.
In my battle, I had the strength to fight, the strength to love and to let myself be loved, the strength to smile and to cry… thanks to my children, my family, and my friends like Julie, a photographer who one day wrote to me, ‘I just wanted to tell you that I think you’re incredible when I see you so radiant despite the disease.’
As the months went by, our moments of sharing created this invisible bond that unites us today through this photograph of solidarity, in unison you once again reached out your hands to me, and through each pink ribbon offered me courage, joy, determination, smiles, friendship, and love. Today this photo is a homage to all the ‘Julies’ who surround me because you are my force and we are united forever. I love you.” — Christelle

The Phœnix

I want to dismantle the world
To in it find the words
Of a deep song
That makes eyes shine
Like when I told you of
The life of the pink flamingo
Which, to seduce its mate
Must burn its wings
After a long journey
To the land of mirages.
It’s a silly song
Written for a bird
Which burns without a word
And is reborn from its ashes
So that a new bird
Reconstructs a more beautiful world
From sunrise to sunset
In the salt marsh
It wants to become pink
To embellish things.

Claude GUDIN

Accessit Prize 2017
Tacit... “a problem”... “a breast”... “get treated”... And the words that evaporate in the heat of the news, because everyone has understood, you say?
Close your lips, clench your teeth, hide your hair, which wilts in the flow of things unsaid.
The world of silence... in its own way. So, in order to get your head above water, you need to know how to make yourself heard, to speak in order to already silence fear. To face the gazes of other people, even one’s children. And to explain to them. With simple words. Sometimes.

I went totally outside my usual photographic work context by photographing Alexandra and her mom Claudine. These two women united through blood ties, united for a single battle, united by a mother’s love for her daughter, and a daughter’s love for her mother, moved me enormously. It suffices to look at their photos to feel this bond of force and love which blows me away.
Alexandra has been fighting cancer since she was twenty-four; it’s been thirteen years now. Since then, her mother has never left her for a second and watches over her at every moment. Like a guardian angel.
The sometimes complex mother-daughter relationship is a bond nourished with complicity. A mom is a point of reference, a resource connection that anchors and allows for rest in order to draw the energy and confidence necessary to be BE in LIFE and to traverse ordeals.
Claudine is more than ever a cornerstone for her daughter, to support her at each instant and to give her back her smile when it dissipates.

Capillary Unity
Between them both, he was the bald one despite a grey crown around his skull. One day, the choice of capillary unity was made. Hence, each month, the shaving routine, slightly theatrical, was organized.
This photograph illustrates this monthly ritual, which merges with the simple pleasure of sharing a new mutual interest. It also evokes life’s lightness when faced with the burden of a disease.
The work by Sacha Goldberger and Dean Bradshaw inspired the off-beat aspect of this photo.

The disease reinforced the friendship between Catherine and Odile. Each had gone through the ordeal supported by the other.
Today, they are each pursuing the path of reconstruction at their own rhythm, under the respectful and considerate gaze of the other!

As I was the photographer of her wedding, Amélie approached me again to propose that I participate in this competition, with her as my model.
The photo session took place with her surrounded by her sister and fifteen of her friends. The traces of red lipstick kisses on her upper body attest to their presence, even if they don’t appear in the photo. Thanks to them we are able to say what unites us: it is the love and support of one’s family and close friends represented simply here, by the union of two hands. I chose to depict a bared but hidden chest to raise women’s awareness about breast cancer, while protecting Amélie’s privacy. Her smile and her sparkling gaze express the positive attitude that she managed to keep in this situation which can be destabilizing.
In order to make the message I was wanting to pass on easy to interpret, I chose to make the photo black and white. I find it both gentle and forceful.

Here are my friends. They’ve been together for ten years, a kind of forever. A few years ago, he injured himself, and a scar marks his forearm. A few months ago, she was diagnosed with breast cancer. Now a scar marks her chest.
I photographed them at their place, their only instruction being to superpose these two scars. These scars are the evidence of tough battles, but also and, most of all, of love and solidarity in the face of what fate will throw their way.
These ordeals that they overcome together make them always stronger and more united.

What unites us, what connects us, is complicity and love. I am fortunate to have this bond with my daughter and it gave me great strength during treatment.

What unites us, today like tomorrow, here and throughout the world, a bond so strong that it is indefinable and unique. Two musical souls, luminously united. Nothing and nobody was ready to experience this surge of tenderness. What unites us, is also this freedom.