Photography is a rather strange art form: whilst it starts out as a realist art – indeed, a deliberately unmediated image of objective reality – one soon realises that things are a fair bit more complicated and ambiguous.
For a start, the very act of choosing a frame – which transforms a fragment torn from a spatial and temporal continuum into an image – tells us more about what is in the photographer’s mind than about what lies before their lens.
Among a thousand other possibilities, which I shall not list here because this is merely a presentation of some of my photographs and not an essay on image theory, I would like to emphasise that it is precisely this suspension of time and space that allows one to compose, within the same frame, a narrative based on the juxtaposition of subjects and objects that are merely coincidentally close to one another at that moment and in that space, yet have no real relationship between them.
This arbitrary connection, which is the product of the photographer’s mind, thus becomes the focal point of that photograph.

















