A biography of the red
Red is a colour meant to be escaped from, it attracts like no other.
Over the years and tears, the red details seemed to bring Houdiniesque illusions to the places and people in front of the camera, tainting them with a nondislodgeable energy.
Red is the present, the day we live in, the moment; carrying along the guiltiest past and the necessary anxiety to change the future. A sound one can tune in, when heading towards stiller places, thwarting collectives away from their permanent yelling. The silence redeems in an instant.
The spell. Bay of Kotor, Montenegro, Summer 2013. View from the ferryboat window to the bay of Kotor in Montenegro.
Julius. Basel, Switzerland, Fall 2015. Luise won the elections. Celebration at Cargo bar, Basel.
Saura meets Lorca. MoLo of Sopot, Poland, Summer 2014, The red stream on the white bench.
The big mirror. Basel, Switzerland, Summer 2016. Rhein swimmers photographed from the Mittlere Brücke in Altstadt klein Basel.
La petite robe noire. Pontevedra, Spain, Summer 2014. A summer day, when one just sits for the whole day listening to the colours swinging by the shore edges.
Silk road. Croix Rousse, Lyon, France, Summer 2012. Platform view of a metro station in line C, late evening.
Boots made for walking. Place des Terreaux, Lyon, France, Fall 2012. Saturday morning hikers in the city centre.
The Nanny. Copenhagen harbour, Denmark, Summer 2016. Nanny Anarina in her taxi ride to the North-east, "we go to live from breeze Anarina. In the North East is also warm Anarina but there, there they have sea breeze."
The night guard. Franz Josef Strauss Airport, Munich, Germany, Summer 2012. The commuting life of Marianne.
Virginia. Foz of Douro, Portugal, Winter 2016. There was a seagull riding through the waves that afternoon. I did not see it; I was consumed by the silence of my coffee cup. Here and there listening the deafening sound of the seabasses on my cup. And I continue, observing the sinking words in my flesh.