France's last coal miners
Jacques Grison
Rapho
A few months from now, coal miners will become an extinct species in France; deep mining, with the exception of the few still-operating slate quarries near Angers, will also be a thing of the past. An entire world is vanishing - a strong, heroic world that has seen many tragedies unfold, and that has served as a setting for countless books and movies.
But, regretfully, all the public know about this industry is what they have gathered from the sepia-toned snapshots offered by fictional works that have tended to focus largely on the drama and heroism associated with the trade. The workings of a modern-day mine are largely a mystery to most people. What’s more, because the end of coal mining is a foretold event, no one lately has bothered to document what still goes on underground. What is the point, one may ask, when mines are all about to be shut down anyway?
For close to a century, mining was the life blood of the eastern part of Lorraine, in north-east France. Gradually, veritable coal dynasties were formed. Family life and social life revolved around the mine.
I felt it was vital to document the last few months of life of the coal-mining industry.
Preview
I had the privilege of witnessing and photographing the last two coal-extraction operations in this are a. Over a period of two years, I accompanied the Moselle-est miners 1,250 metres down to the bottom of the pit. I have been down the Vouters (Merlebach) and La Houve (Creutzwald) pits roughly thirty times, a privilege which had hitherto never been granted to anyone outside the mining community. It was an honour to be given the opportunity of sharing the daily lives of the Lord of the Mines, of being let into their world, both up at the pithead or down below.
I would wake up bright and early for the 5:30 morning shift, ready to go down with the hewer, the ripper, the shot firer, the cutting-machine operator, the foreman, the tunnel-borer and the davyman... I was able to watch them sink, timber, and rip, in two gigantic mobile mining places 800 and 1,250 metres below ground, each being worked by 2,500 tonnes of rolling stock, and extracting up to 20,000 tonnes of coal per day. These are France's last two modern mines. Before the mines close down permanently, before the pithead gear stops working, before the shaft door closes forever on a century of discreet, if not secret, lives, I want to offer a glimpse into the world of those who have played such an important part in our industrial history. Before they turn their headlamps off forever.
This story is my way of showing respect and gratitude for the generations of miners who lost their health, and sometimes their lives, to the mines; it is intended as a historical record, and I sincerely hope it is a faithful reflection of their work.
With these few photographs, I wish to bid them Glück auf.
Commission : Centre National des Arts Plastiques