It’s the first moment of absence that burns the sky. The sun has retreated, yet it bathes us in its most vivid colours before giving us over to the darkness of the night. Grief resembles this space-time which is neither day nor night, neither life nor death, which exists within itself. Like flowers that, under the spell of time, slowly wilt, painful emotions are gently assuaged with the passing days. Like stopping mid-sentence at a feeling far too vivid to be named.

Photography seems to have the capacity to bring us closer to what escapes us: light, a moment, a life. It is a tool to help us see the passage of time, to preserve what is bound to wither, to cherish the traces of a loved one. These are the different life cycles observed by each artist, each carrying within them their own tales, each one’s work testifying to a gaze turned towards what disappears.

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