Villeneuve-Loubet/ 25.06.2019
Côte d’Azur – a resting machine. There is no one. Silence. All you can hear is the sound of waves and the singing of birds. It is E-1027: Eileen Gray’s villa. E-1027 is not a machine for living. E-1027 is love and hate, beauty and devastation. I turn on the silence machine. I can’t see, can’t hear the beach frolic, the bathers, the hotels. I don’t look around. I look ahead. Sky, waves, pebbles, beach. The sound of the sea, birds singing, children shrieking. Idyllic. The machine is in motion. In the distant sky, a human transport machine approaches the runway in Nice. They’ll be here any minute now. The wave swells.
Sahara Desert (Tunisia) 29 March 2011
We came to the Sahara by camel caravan, in flowing robes and turbans on our heads. Like Bedouins. 30 minutes and I understand what the road is like. It’s hot. The sand heats you up as much as the sun. Half an hour in the desert, and it’s already unbearable. I hide behind the biggest dune. Everyone disappears. I’m left alone. Alone in the Sahara. Desert sand rises up from one place to another. Dunes wander here and there. The old ones disappear and new ones form. The sand keeps on coming. Wherever you look, as far as the horizon, there’s the desert and grains of sand flying through it. We get out of there. Making room for the next Bedouin group.
My wife Zofia (a quote from the Polish cult film ‘Miś’), the toughest of the toughest, holding the frame, not giving in to the waves of the Mediterranean Sea.
Each photograph used during the journey stops being luggage, changes its destiny, takes on a new life. It creates a unique travel sack with a story in the background. Always just one. One shot, one sack. Luggage (no excess)
Backstage
