In many of the photographs I take, I have often found it fascinating to represent absence, that no man’s land where, once men and women have left, only abandoned objects remain, the debris of some ancient shipwreck, solitary places from which a sense of questioning unease blows like a subtle gust of dusty wind.
Because the meaning of this type of image lies precisely in its elliptical, indirect nature, in posing more questions than can be answered, in telling the story of people or the questions their absence raises through things or places and, in some way, as an old saying goes, in “speaking to the daughter-in-law so that the mother-in-law understands”.
After a year spent photographing countless visitors, legions of tourists and pilgrims who filled our cities for a variety of reasons, I am pleased to start 2026 with some images of a slightly post-apocalyptic atmosphere that give an idea of what may remain after the tide recedes.
