
Spring in Arles Jean Marquès
Today marks the launch of our new STANLEY/BARKER website—a moment we’ve been quietly working towards for some time. With this new chapter, we wanted to create an environment that was more than just a space to browse books. We wanted to celebrate the world books inhabit: the lived-in, physical, imperfect world where they are truly at home.
There’s something marvellous about books - unlike digital products, books carry the marks of their journeys. They sit on coffee tables and shelves, their covers gathering fingerprints, their spines cracking gently over time. A friend might rest a drink on one, and a dog-eared page might hint at a favourite passage revisited again and again. The irony, of course, is that the more a book is loved, the less perfect it becomes. That slow erosion is a form of intimacy—a sign of life.
Each season , we’ll be inviting members of our community—artists, photographers, collectors and friends—to share images of their STANLEY/BARKER books as they appear in the real world. Worn, well-thumbed, sunlit or shadowed, on a desk, in a suitcase, beside a bed—however they’re lived with. These are books as they truly exist: not untouched objects, but companions.
To open the series, we turned to the French artist Jean Marquès - who you may have met if you’ve visited our stand at Paris Photo - his quiet, deeply considered practice aligns beautifully with our ethos.
Born in France in 1996, Jean studied at the École nationale supérieure de la photographie in Arles (ENSP) and now works between Arles, Paris and central Portugal. His practice is rooted in the everyday: still lifes and ephemeral atmospheres drawn from wherever he happens to be. He is fascinated by light and its physical imprint on analogue paper. For Jean, photography is a way of being present—a literary act that threads together moments, objects and spaces into a kind of visual language. His work is contemplative and technical in equal measure, marked by a sense of quiet attention and, above all, patience.
We asked Jean to reflect on his relationship with STANLEY/BARKER, and to share a glimpse of his books in situ—at home, in the flow of daily life.
SB: How did your interest in photography begin?
JM: My appetite for photography was sparked by hybrid books—particularly those by Raymond Depardon and Denis Roche—where images and written words are woven together. That dialogue between text and photograph really moved me. Later, in Paris, I encountered prints by Nan Goldin, William Christenberry, Claude Batho, and Eggleston too. I was 19. Everything was changing then, and photography became a way to make sense of that transformation.
SB: Do you remember your first STANLEY/BARKER book?
JM: Washington Square was the first I came across, although I can’t remember exactly where. But I do remember seeing Carnival by Mark Steinmetz at a book fair. I spent a long time looking at it. It’s a beautiful book—I still recommend it when conversations turn to photography.
SB: Where were these photographs taken?
JM: They were made at home, one late morning, while I was quietly looking through each book. Most of my work happens at home, in Arles, where I’ve been living for many years. It’s a small flat with just one room, so I’m constantly seeing the same things every day. That repetition becomes part of the process. I photograph this kind of magma—an ongoing, intuitive diary. There’s no strict protocol, but I do approach it with persistence. That sense of accumulation, of things layering over time, feels infinite to me—and I find that very compelling.”
Jean’s photographs capture precisely the kind of lived presence we hope this new series will celebrate—books not as pristine artefacts, but as everyday objects that sit quietly within the flow of our lives.
As we continue to grow STANLEY/BARKER, we’re reminded again and again that it’s the people who live with these books—who return to them, mark them, photograph them—who give them meaning. This series is a way of honouring that.