I don´t get to see often photographic work of this quality.
Now I could write about the obvious, I could write about composition, color and form, I could write about a hidden formal layer behind the photographic surface, I could write about shapes and colors relating to each other as if in an abstract painting, and then I could write about the special quality of light and the lovely nuances of color the photographer uses, but my mind moves over to another question, and I ask myself, whatever happened to all these people?
There is a lot of tiredness in these images. Like in old American westerns, this is a man´s world, most of them quite aged, only few youngsters. But even the young ones are lost in a kind of silent isolation. No hope, no ease is there to be found. A woman occupies a vacant television screen, an other one turns her head away from us, not in defense, simply just because she is occupied with something else. The tip of an ear is poking out of her hair. She could hear us, if we talked to her.
Of course, these images tell us something about reality, because it had to be there to be captured on film. But while the photographer points outside, these images, also tell something about himself, I imagine.