
the cinema, so often our collective portal to places that are unattainable, or unimaginable, suddenly became a portal to an entirely new kind of image, whose essence lay in the magic of the invisible becoming present in the tangible world.


Using hundreds of thousands of messages and media spontaneously shared in a WhatsApp group, I used editing to put together a ‘documentary’ in which plane spotters narrate their own experiences with the hobby in Brazil.


some things are invisible to the naked eye. they occur either too quickly or too slowly to really be seen or, indeed, they take place in the dark and our eyes are physically incapable of perceiving them. other things are invisible, simply because looking for too long would be inappropriate, an invasion of privacy.


The other, the same is a video set among the curves of a pedestrian bridge, where, after an opening explosion, images continuously unfold, like a skein whose ends are pulled simultaneously in opposite directions. One part indicates the past while, symmetrically, the other reaches toward the future, creating a temporal fracture in which past, present and future become entangled. The video was filmed as a long take in which, merging with the unpredictable coming and going of passers-by on that day, there is a fictional character who regularly completes a circuit and realigns himself with his reflection, like a mysterious memory of himself. As we listen to the soundtrack, which reinforces the marking of the passage of time, while also seeming to move melodically between the passers-by and the banks of the lake, we cannot help thinking that perhaps, quite simply, it is not time that passes, but ourselves.


hoping to surprise what has surrounded me everyday for so long, i decided to hide a camera in the back of my car and, thanks to this subtle shift in perspective, attempt to reveal a reality hidden beneath the guise of the ordinary. i started to observe the activity inside cars which, like our thoughts, seems to unfold in a parallel world. despite this apparent privacy, however, what should supposedly envelop and protect us like a shelter is in fact more like an open-air stage, separated from the audience by a thin transparent membrane, a mediator between two realities. through the greenish tint of windscreens, the lives of drivers and passengers – like those of fish in an aquarium – are exposed and observed unbeknown to them. or not…


hoping to surprise what has surrounded me everyday for so long, i decided to hide a camera in the back of my car and, thanks to this subtle shift in perspective, attempt to reveal a reality hidden beneath the guise of the ordinary. i started to observe the activity inside cars which, like our thoughts, seems to unfold in a parallel world. despite this apparent privacy, however, what should supposedly envelop and protect us like a shelter is in fact more like an open-air stage, separated from the audience by a thin transparent membrane, a mediator between two realities. through the greenish tint of windscreens, the lives of drivers and passengers – like those of fish in an aquarium – are exposed and observed unbeknown to them. or not…


stealthily hidden behind the movie screen, disguised as an image, I could see those who should be watching other people's lives immersed in their own thoughts trance, becoming, unwittingly, victims of my eye, and I, the spectator of the spectators or, even, the voyeur of the voyeurs.


here 4 world capitals become indistinguishable through their financial districts, almost "non-places". influenced by de chirico and francis bacon, the contrast between the bleakness of the geometric shapes and the fluidity of the human body, a piece of meat being digested by the city, creates mysterious, disjointed landscapes, through which, in broad daylight and urban confusion, a few anonymous figures wander in a trance-like state, as if in a dream...


l''…lurking, i'm on the lookout for something that is saying to me, it bothers me, it affects me.'' ''i do not believe in culture, i believe, in a way, in encounters.'' - gilles deleuze


From the window of my house I can see two quite different spaces separated by a wall. On one side, an old cul-de-sac, on the other, a recently constructed building. Over the months in which I observed the lives of others, I also witnessed numerous disagreements related to diametrically opposed political positions. And so, in the midst of the intolerance that has cast such a cloud over the power of exchange and dialogue in our time, I decided that, rather than showing the differences between the two sides, I would bring them together. With the intention of creating a zone of ambiguity I thus developed a series of strategies which, echoing the paradoxical aspects of human nature, would allow the two sides to engage with each other, to come together, to merge and to become reconciled – all the more so the greater the distance between people and their lives.


helena was born on 22 march 2013. in our maternity room, a tv watched over her activity in the baby unit. these images led me to ask a number of questions: how will such exposure change the habits of her generation? will being under this omnipresent gaze mean that she will be more scared of making mistakes and, as a result, more scared of pursuing ideas that challenge what is around her? will she have the simple right to be forgotten?


the cinema, so often our collective portal to places that are unattainable, or unimaginable, suddenly became a portal to an entirely new kind of image, whose essence lay in the magic of the invisible becoming present in the tangible world.


Using a WhatsApp group for plane spotters, I started to share, learn about and attend meetups for photographing aeroplanes at airports and, sometimes, at the homes of the friends I had made (known as home-spotting), usually in neighbourhoods or deprived communities close to runway thresholds.


in playing observations of everyday situations suggest a particular moment of introspection in each subject, as if the reality we live in were also part of a fiction created by our imagination. images inhabit a hybrid space between the natural and the artificial, where the everyday mingles with the absurd, blurring the boundaries between fact, fiction and interpretation.


here 4 world capitals become indistinguishable through their financial districts, almost "non-places". influenced by de chirico and francis bacon, the contrast between the bleakness of the geometric shapes and the fluidity of the human body, a piece of meat being digested by the city, creates mysterious, disjointed landscapes, through which, in broad daylight and urban confusion, a few anonymous figures wander in a trance-like state, as if in a dream...


hoping to surprise what has surrounded me everyday for so long, i decided to hide a camera in the back of my car and, thanks to this subtle shift in perspective, attempt to reveal a reality hidden beneath the guise of the ordinary. i started to observe the activity inside cars which, like our thoughts, seems to unfold in a parallel world. despite this apparent privacy, however, what should supposedly envelop and protect us like a shelter is in fact more like an open-air stage, separated from the audience by a thin transparent membrane, a mediator between two realities. through the greenish tint of windscreens, the lives of drivers and passengers – like those of fish in an aquarium – are exposed and observed unbeknown to them. or not…


some things are invisible to the naked eye. they occur either too quickly or too slowly to really be seen or, indeed, they take place in the dark and our eyes are physically incapable of perceiving them. other things are invisible, simply because looking for too long would be inappropriate, an invasion of privacy.


in playing observations of everyday situations suggest a particular moment of introspection in each subject, as if the reality we live in were also part of a fiction created by our imagination. images inhabit a hybrid space between the natural and the artificial, where the everyday mingles with the absurd, blurring the boundaries between fact, fiction and interpretation.


stealthily hidden behind the movie screen, disguised as an image, I could see those who should be watching other people's lives immersed in their own thoughts trance, becoming, unwittingly, victims of my eye, and I, the spectator of the spectators or, even, the voyeur of the voyeurs.


whether by choice or not, cameras bear witness to a constant unfolding of life. as the curtains open and close, snatches of stories are framed and placed before us, the onlookers. yet, as we press the shutter, we are often unaware of a vital part of that moment in which the subject becomes an image: the wait. or, indeed, the moment as the consummation of waiting.


some things are invisible to the naked eye. they occur either too quickly or too slowly to really be seen or, indeed, they take place in the dark and our eyes are physically incapable of perceiving them. other things are invisible, simply because looking for too long would be inappropriate, an invasion of privacy.


Using a WhatsApp group for plane spotters, I started to share, learn about and attend meetups for photographing aeroplanes at airports and, sometimes, at the homes of the friends I had made (known as home-spotting), usually in neighbourhoods or deprived communities close to runway thresholds.


''…lurking, i'm on the lookout for something that is saying to me, it bothers me, it affects me.'' ''i do not believe in culture, i believe, in a way, in encounters.'' - gilles deleuze


the cinema, so often our collective portal to places that are unattainable, or unimaginable, suddenly became a portal to an entirely new kind of image, whose essence lay in the magic of the invisible becoming present in the tangible world.


''…lurking, i'm on the lookout for something that is saying to me, it bothers me, it affects me.'' ''i do not believe in culture, i believe, in a way, in encounters.'' - gilles deleuze


From the window of my house I can see two quite different spaces separated by a wall. On one side, an old cul-de-sac, on the other, a recently constructed building. Over the months in which I observed the lives of others, I also witnessed numerous disagreements related to diametrically opposed political positions. And so, in the midst of the intolerance that has cast such a cloud over the power of exchange and dialogue in our time, I decided that, rather than showing the differences between the two sides, I would bring them together. With the intention of creating a zone of ambiguity I thus developed a series of strategies which, echoing the paradoxical aspects of human nature, would allow the two sides to engage with each other, to come together, to merge and to become reconciled – all the more so the greater the distance between people and their lives.


Using a WhatsApp group for plane spotters, I started to share, learn about and attend meetups for photographing aeroplanes at airports and, sometimes, at the homes of the friends I had made (known as home-spotting), usually in neighbourhoods or deprived communities close to runway thresholds.


From the window of my house I can see two quite different spaces separated by a wall. On one side, an old cul-de-sac, on the other, a recently constructed building. Over the months in which I observed the lives of others, I also witnessed numerous disagreements related to diametrically opposed political positions. And so, in the midst of the intolerance that has cast such a cloud over the power of exchange and dialogue in our time, I decided that, rather than showing the differences between the two sides, I would bring them together. With the intention of creating a zone of ambiguity I thus developed a series of strategies which, echoing the paradoxical aspects of human nature, would allow the two sides to engage with each other, to come together, to merge and to become reconciled – all the more so the greater the distance between people and their lives.


stealthily hidden behind the movie screen, disguised as an image, I could see those who should be watching other people's lives immersed in their own thoughts trance, becoming, unwittingly, victims of my eye, and I, the spectator of the spectators or, even, the voyeur of the voyeurs.


whether by choice or not, cameras bear witness to a constant unfolding of life. as the curtains open and close, snatches of stories are framed and placed before us, the onlookers. yet, as we press the shutter, we are often unaware of a vital part of that moment in which the subject becomes an image: the wait. or, indeed, the moment as the consummation of waiting.


read more about the stories, investigations and backstages of flare, do not disturb, traffic trance, procession and other projects.


Finding myself among thousands of people who had gathered to celebrate the new year, I wanted to enter each person’s mind and record their thoughts before, like flickering apparitions, they slipped back into the subconscious, where they could never again be examined. In front of me, a lone spectator became my channel of communication with the crowd. Through those eyes, which I never saw, I glimpsed that uncertain mental space where worries and desires are kindled and extinguished, where intimacy sparkles. And, while each person returned to the secret path of their existence, amidst the chaotic meeting of bodies which almost touched each other, yet drew back, I sensed the un-shareable solitude of our own existence.
