The roomsRoom V
Afternoon, Somewhere
Ordinary streets, before they change
Cities forget faster than people do. A corner shop, a tree in a courtyard, a man carrying a basket home: none of it seems worth photographing until it is gone. These are ordinary afternoons, kept on purpose.
Concrete, Noon
A building that everyone in the neighbourhood calls by a name it never officially had.
The Long Street
I counted eleven people I recognised from earlier walks. None of them recognised me, which is the right way round.
Crossing
Everyone moving in a different direction, and for a fraction of a second, all of them in the same picture.
Courtyard Tree
Older than every building around it. They paved the courtyard but could not bring themselves to cut it down.
Carrying Home
He walks this street at the same time every day. I have photographed him four times. He has waved once.
Behind the series
I walk the same streets each week and photograph whatever has not changed yet. Some of these places have already been demolished since I made the pictures.
That is the strange gift of a photograph: it is always a little more permanent than the thing it shows.
