Watch Interview With Cyril Bailleul

When French photographer Cyril Bailleul first stepped into Atlanta’s legendary Clermont Lounge, he couldn’t have imagined that a single evening would spark a decade-long creative journey. Yet ten years later, his camera has quietly captured one of the South’s most iconic and eccentric landmarks, transforming an underground bar into a bridge between Paris and the Deep South.

“My connection is because my wife is American,” Bailleul explains. “We met in 2007 in Paris, and then her mother lived in Atlanta and her father lived in Birmingham, Alabama. So that’s my first connection with the South, with the Deep South of the US.”

Like many European photographers before him, Bailleul was drawn to the mythic light and layered textures of the American landscape.

“So many photographers are in love with the US,” he says. “It’s a very photogenic country, and the South is special—with the landscape, the people, the history behind.”

Discovering a Southern Icon

The Clermont Lounge, tucked beneath the historic Hotel Clermont on Ponce de Leon Avenue, has been an Atlanta institution since the 1960s. Famous for its no-photography policy and an atmosphere equal parts gritty and glamorous, the Lounge attracts an eclectic mix of regulars, artists, and the occasional celebrity.

Bailleul first heard about it through his mother-in-law, who shares his passion for photography.

“She told me, ‘I heard about this place, the Clermont Lounge—it’s very famous in Atlanta. I’ve never been, but I think it would be interesting,’” he recalls.

Breaking the club’s strict no-camera rule seemed impossible—until his mother-in-law made a call on his behalf. Against all odds, the owners agreed to let him shoot inside.

“As soon as you open the door of the lounge, you are in another world,” Bailleul remembers. “You get surprised, and then after, you really get in love with the place. It’s magical. It’s unique.”

Building Trust Through the Lens

The first person to welcome Bailleul was Cassie, one of the Lounge’s dancers.

“She helped me a lot to introduce me to the others,” he says.

Through patience and respect, he gained the trust of the performers and staff, documenting the human side of a venue often mythologized for its wild reputation.

“There’s no VIP area,” he notes. “Everybody mixes up in the lounge, and it’s also the spirit of the place.”

Photographing a Living Landmark

Over the past decade, Bailleul has chronicled not just the performers, but the soul of the Clermont. His long-term project coincided with the 100th anniversary of the building and the 60th anniversary of the Lounge, milestones that inspired him to stage an exhibition inside the club itself—the first of its kind.

“I asked the club, ‘What do you think about an exhibition inside?’” he recalls. “It would be the first time, and to pay tribute to the women and people who work there. They liked the idea and said, ‘Do what you want.’”

Partnering with Villa Albertine, a French cultural residency supported by the French Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Bailleul’s exhibition became a symbolic bridge between French art and Southern Americana.

Originally scheduled for just two months, the show became permanent.

“It ended up staying forever,” he says proudly. “For the opening, I had a projection at the old Kodak carousel during the night. Sometimes we add or change photos, just to keep it alive.”

Icons and Legends

Among the Lounge’s many personalities, none looms larger than Blondie, its legendary performer who has been part of the scene for more than five decades.

“She’s the star, the legendary icon of Atlanta,” Bailleul says. “When Mick Jagger had a concert here, he told the crowd, ‘Yesterday I was in the Clermont Lounge, and Blondie crushed a beer can for me.’”

Moments like that underscore what the Lounge represents: a rare cultural constant in a city that keeps reinventing itself.

A Photographer’s Second Home

Today, Bailleul continues to expand his series, weaving together scenes from the hotel above and the club below, exploring the surreal transitions between rest and revelry, dream and documentary.

“Every time I open the door, it’s like I was there before,” he reflects. “I’m very proud to be part of this family.”

Through his lens, the neon glow and smoky intimacy of the Lounge take on a cinematic warmth—a French gaze turned tenderly toward the American South. For Cyril Bailleul, the Clermont Lounge isn’t just a nightclub. It’s a living portrait of resilience, performance, and belonging, glowing perpetually beneath the hum of a Ponce de Leon neon sign.

@cyril_bailleul

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