If you want to read this letter in Spanish, you’ll find it here.
Matthieu Nicol is the founder of the communication agency Too Many Pictures, has worked as a photo editor at Le Monde, lives in Paris, speaks Spanish fluently, and is the editor of Better Food for Our Fighting Men. A few weeks ago, I had the opportunity to talk with him to gain a deeper understanding of this editorial piece –one of the first to be part of our catalogue– of small format and considerable weight.
From a distance, it's crystal clear that photography plays an important role in Matthieu's life. He's not just a casual observer; he's a true connoisseur and an avid collector, particularly when it comes to vintage culinary imagery. He enjoys scouring flea markets and rummaging through dusty stacks of books, in pursuit of images and literature centered around the world of food, and sharing it all on Instagram under the account @vintage_food_photography. He didn't exactly start off in the culinary universe, but he's taken quite a unique path. He’s like an archaeologist of visuals, diving headfirst into the rich tapestry of social, political, and cultural history that surrounds food.
We talked about anonymous images, unconventional visual approaches, and unintentional photobooks that spark curiosity. Matthieu is particularly drawn to those photographs captured between the early 20th century and the invention of the microwave, because with the advent of industrial revolution everything changes; formats evolve, digital cameras emerge, and that analog aesthetic is ultimately replaced.
We discussed the weight of the book, an initial detail that caught our attention as we held the book in our hands. This deliberate feature serves as a reminder that military rations are compact, heavy, and tiny. It is a petit book that invites you to tuck it away anywhere, mirroring the practicality of military gear with its many compartments. A little window into a realm typically kept away from public view.
Matthieu shared with me some insights about "instructional" photography and mentioned an essay by the artist Carmen Winant [Instructional Photographs: Learning How to Live Now, 2021, SPBH Editions]. In her work, Winant explores the capacity of a photograph to instruct us and reveal ontological truths about the world. She encourages us to place our trust in the image, which leads me to ponder whether, in the future, it will be easy, if not possible, to distinguish between a real photograph and an artificial one.
Then we shifted our focus to reflect on how cookbooks have changed. «Now they're coffee-table books, part of the decor, and they can be found anywhere but the kitchen. The name of the photographer is on the cover or in the credits, whereas before it didn't even appear; these were practical and common books used to cook meals». These are the publications that captivate Matthieu –promotional catalogues and books edited by advertising agencies or hotel chains. He values the physical format and, although he isn't fond of searching on the internet, it has become an indispensable tool for him to gather information, though not as the starting point.
But while browsing YouTube through survival and military food forums, he stumbled upon a photograph that caught his eye. He traced the source: nearly 15,000 photographs in perfect condition, taken between 1970 and 1980, had just been declassified. The archive belonged to the United States Army's Natick Soldier Research, Development, and Engineering Center.
This facility –half public, half private and still operational to this day– was established in 1953 near Boston, Massachusetts. Its mission was to research and develop personal clothing and equipment, field shelters, food service and feeding systems, as well as containers and packaging meant to meet the needs of the U.S. military forces.
The book features 92 photographs and a glossary of 24 concepts –one for each of the 24 hours a military ration should cover. Matthieu spent every night for a couple of months sorting them through. The initial selection consisted of 500 photographs. After a while, he had a draft and the opportunity to bring it to life with RVB Books. The book was produced in just two months.
The images document the sophisticated experiments conducted by nutrition and logistics experts to provide the necessary sustenance and boost the morale of soldiers. Irradiation, dehydration, thermostabilization, compression, preservation, lyophilization, rehydration, heating, serving –from cheese and broccoli or BBQ chicken shakes to puree tubes with applicators to facilitate feeding through a gas mask. They really offer ingenious suggestions for usage and service.
We don't often think about the intricate machinery of technological and scientific innovation that exists behind our everyday food. If we dare to envision the same supply chain in a hostile and senseless environment like a conflict zone, simply feeding oneself adequately becomes a top priority. Food must be safe and free from any bacteria, it must meet basic nutritional needs, be readily available, easy to preserve and transport, and to the possible extent, maintain some level of physical and sensory appeal. It's an enormous challenge.
As Matthieu conducted his research, he crafted accompanying notes that serve as a glossary alongside the photographs. These entries elucidate concepts and acronyms used in the photo captions, outlining fundamental components of a typical soldier's diet and the new technologies that enabled the food industry to manufacture and supply these rations. Subsequently, these innovations extended into the domestic and cultural realms.
In the mid 20th century, for instance, military technology had a profound influence on the eating habits and material realities of an increasingly industrialized world. The introduction of flash freezing, microwaves, and de- and re-hydrated foods permeated domestic space and bellies, marketed for health or for women’s liberation or whatever else best sold the item or process in question. – Adriana Gallo [Meal Replacements and Ascetic Diet Cultures, 2023, Mold Magazine]
Matthieu made efforts to establish contact with the Natick Center to glean additional insights about the archive, but his inquiries were met with resounding silence. What's intriguing, though, is that despite his anticipation of a more substantial response in the United States, he has come to realize that the niche photobook market is essentially absent in the North American country. Surprisingly, even those few who do seek out such books tend to journey to Europe in search of them.
Although Matthieu says the book isn't flawless, he is happy with the final result. As a photobook, his preference was for an otabind binding, allowing it to lay flat and enabling a thorough appreciation of each image. He had envisioned the inner dust jacket to mimic the metallic texture of a disposable aluminum tray. Furthermore, he had originally intended for the back cover photo to be in the front cover, but the publishing house refused, fearing it might be misconstrued as a gay-theme book.
This recipe-less cookbook offers an unconventional perspective through which to examine the food system of one of the world's most advanced nations, paradoxically grappling with high obesity rates. Personally, this intrigues and disquiets me in equal measure. There's no shortage of knowledge, resources, or willingness, yet efforts continue to veer off course, benefiting only a select few. The interdependence that exists between ultra-processed foods –and essentially any other technological sector– and the military-industrial complex goes far beyond what we can imagine. Hopefully, the attempts could shift towards “better food for everyone".
Yesterday I was listening to Gabriel Alonso, founder of the Institute for Postnatural Studies, remark on how tremendous it is that wars always become these violent moments when technology and nature collide in such intricate ways.
Alec Carver hits the mark in The Commontable when he concludes that as conventional warfare stubbornly refuses to remain a 20th-century phenomenon and food insecurity, political instability and rising living costs take up more and more space in the collective consciousness, we would do well to consider the history of military-industrial food systems, in parallel with peaceful, communal, sustainable alternatives, more often in our conversations about the future of food. Doing so might not be the most appetising choice but maybe more so than the alternatives.
Matthieu recommended me some books that will soon join our catalogue, and we ended up talking about the ongoing second edition of the Yeast festival in Italy, in which he is participating with BFFOFM; also about Parisian bookstores, and notable publishing houses like Dalpine in Madrid or Ca l’Isidret in Barcelona, both renowned for their contributions to the world of photography, art, and editorial design.
We couldn't help but wonder about the anonymous eyes behind the camera, the unseen storytellers who composed these captivating images. Undoubtedly, they knew their craft well because these are fascinating images that speak volumes on their own.
TTS-003
Better Food for Our Fighting Men
ed. Matthieu Nicol
RVB Books
2022