Passages
Life is a series of passages, moments of presence, of 'it-has-been.' I am not sure that photography stops anything, especially time, which it seems to me to extend differently from our habits. In this series started in 2024, I try to capture some traces of impermanence, sometimes symbolic, always connected to and reflecting this world. Mainly in urban settings, in Paris, London, and in a few cities in the United Kingdom where I stayed temporarily, following the line of 'Fragments,' an essay that gathered photos taken during short trips in large cities.
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The asphalt still retains the murmur
of footsteps
A shadow on the wall
An echo lingers
A step has stopped
Like a breath waiting
Invisible threshold
A shadow on the wall
An echo lingers
A step has stopped
Like a breath waiting
Invisible threshold
Something happened
Where, when, how?
Something happened
We do not know how to describe it
We do not know how to reread it
Something
Chaos of silence
Yesterday tomorrow
Where, when, how?
Something happened
We do not know how to describe it
We do not know how to reread it
Something
Chaos of silence
Yesterday tomorrow
How many
trains ran, roared, and rusted off the rails?
How many commuters
Every day
Gave away their dreams, their hopes, their faith
Passing through this absurd Rubicon
Not knowing that even on the darkest Sundays
Light will always break through the track and deploy its wings?
There is a fallen angel under the station bridge
How many commuters
Every day
Gave away their dreams, their hopes, their faith
Passing through this absurd Rubicon
Not knowing that even on the darkest Sundays
Light will always break through the track and deploy its wings?
There is a fallen angel under the station bridge