PHOTOGRAPHY | PROJECT
A transitional space, a timeless moment… a glimpse of my thoughts
I don’t know where it started. Maybe from the blue of the negative, maybe because of the leafy wall. Maybe from the movie “The Reader” directed by Stephen Daldry. Hanna Schmitz (aka Kate Winslet) had a wall in her cell lined with sheets of paper from which she learned to read. Michael Berg (aka Ralph Fiennes) read, recorded and sent the tapes. She listens. “The Lady with the Dog” by Chekhov. Maybe from this, maybe from many other connections that occur quickly, involuntarily in my mind… aroused randomly on a June afternoon.
Memory, probably the greatest enemy we have at hand… it makes us remember, to relate. Probabilities, in this equation, make us try to frame an event temporally, to identify the distinctive elements to which we can relate… delayed, suspended somewhere in time.
She learns to read, you on the other side read in her eyes a whole universe that seems to expand the space between. There is a loss of time, a feeling of vertigo and a loss of awareness of one’s identity. It spins, it spins under your feet, the floor is trembling. You wake up dazed after a few moments and it looks like you’ve been through an eternity. You shoot the first roll being confident that the black and white contrast will be perfect. You put the second roll captivated by the scene. You have no idea what kind of film you shoot. You discover later on the soft pale blue shades invading your negatives, filling the empty space created between the camera and the Amber Eyes. It’s magic and as every magic moment it lasts for a second, on a blink of an eye. After the second roll you left the camera on the floor, that’s it! She’s still there, still looking out the window.
It is extremely rare to find her there, on the negative, before it triggers. It is just as rare occurrence to catch the fear of intervening, the fear of (co)existing in the same space, in the same room, breathing the same air. However, the ability to determine somehow the feelings generated at the moment remains unique. Could it have been? Could it be? Almost impossible… it was only a split second… Confusion, uncertainties, questions follow afterwards.
In the end, it remains the story written above that you will never know if it is true or not. Relevant is no longer what we remember, but how we remember. Even more, if we can recompose from the memory fragments or from some significant details, based on which, other stories can be born, each time more exciting, with a different turn… Contextually, remains only memories, and parts of them are: me, her, the camera and the film with bluish-gray hues.
p.s. MB Quote: “How wrong can you be?”