A photo, a story. Except that the story is hypothetical, and the photo impromptu.
I am not yielding to the pleasure of story-telling in these images, and certainly do not stage anything or anyone. I am only a spectator, my curiosity piqued, slightly surprised. The pictures showed up, yet unformed, but not indifferent, and I sensed that the characters were involved in a tale, be it undetermined.
It is never about clearing up the unknowns, but rather about suggesting the narrative depth and breadth of these scenes, between fact and fiction, with their multiple possibilities, that meet or even intertwine, whose scope develops in each of our imaginations. My titles are but subjective points of departure: a man on the run; the end of an affair; a hero loosed from the novel; a “specter” haunting a place bathed in ghostly light…
