« If you can say it in words, there’s no reason to paint it. » Edward Hopper
Photography, in its immobility of the world, establishes a point of rupture with the hubbub of society. By its essence, it fixes time and generates silence.
In these half-urban, half-natural landscapes, silence dominates. We can barely imagine the sound of a heel on the asphalt, the crunch of sand, a word exchanged in the far distance. Looking at them, we enter a kind of dreamy space cherished by Edward Hopper where it becomes difficult to characterize the feelings they inspire. Solitude? Meditation? Sharing an intimacy? Waiting? We enter a universe of suspended time, where there is no more urgency or imperative, the present is spread out, out of reach of the noise of the world.