April in Paris
This series is about a personal experience of social separation during Covid in Paris. Through those images, I bear the feelings of isolation, craving for human contact, and need for nature. Shifting from a time of certainty to days of “no plans” we find ourselves in a place which did not exist before.”
The exterior remains far away and seems like a distant memory, untouchable while remaining confined.
The media report the number of deaths, the number of people hospitalized, the number of new cases on a daily basis. Society is frozen, petrified. Ile-de-France is a “red zone”. There is talk of protection against the invisible, and confinement is the rule.
Meanwhile, nature is in full bloom, in full efflorescence.
Spring is slowly unveiling itself before our very eyes. We take the time to observe it patiently.
Our attention to nature changes and we realize how much we miss it during this period.
The link between outside and inside is the window. Sometimes a metaphor, sometimes an instrument, the window fascinates.
In this series, it links the children’s gaze to the outside, beyond a strong light that projects us into the distance. These are the same streets that we all usually frequent, which at the moment are diluted in this bright light, in a peaceful silence, freed from the chaos of human activity. The indefinite gaze of the children tries to understand what this danger from the outside truly represents, the form it may take.
Each trip outside is an opportunity to pick up a crazy grass, a little flower that becomes a magical element once brought inside. Nature represents a form of protection or a possible antidote. An eggplant becomes a magic ball and chard leaves a soft blanket.