When I was little, I used to love watching the lit windows in the houses and buildings at night: the warm light in the living rooms, the cold blue from the strip-lights in the kitchens, the cozy ambience from the bedroom windows… these lights and colors in the dark seemed to me like stars in the night sky, signs of life in parallel universes. I wondered who was living there, what they were doing, what they were feeling, if they were feeling something similar to me.
Many many years later, I’m at this three storey british house, brown bricks, with a magnolia tree full of pink flowers blooming at the entry door. When I arrived at this house, I was instantly magnetized by the energy of the place, soaked with past lifes, traces of memories everywhere. Between the kitchen and the main living room there was a tight and curved corridor, kind of a secret passage. In this dark corridor there was a tiny window from where you could guess the garden outside, only guess because the view was almost covered by the leaves of a bamboo tree.
This specific window called my attention , the quietness of this corner, the light in the dark of the corridor, there was a mystery there, so i took a photo and then another one… How to capture the way a place feels just with a photo? But I kept trying and almost every time I passed by this place I took a photo, just to try to catch the intangible magic of it.
The next day before I left, I asked her what was her favorite place in the house, and she told me the tiny window.
For me, photos are just like windows. They let enter light, they let us guess what is inside.
But photos are not enough to tell the whole story about what these encounters with the people I photographed have meant to me. Photos can not tell about the conversations we had, the stories you shared with me, youth wounds, family history, wishes and hopes for the future… thanks for opening up to me, listening to you, watching you, I understood things about my own path.
This photographic project around intimacy & family life began two years ago with a set of photos called Aux sources, to date we have photographed more than 15 families in three countries with different origins and backgrounds.
My days in London with the wonderful families that welcomed me there have helped me to see that we are all connected, that many of us share this common ground of struggle from which we raise, to raise our own family. We’re trying our best to be better than our parents for our children. Not an easy task, knowing that our early life experiences have shaped us to become who we are now. Anyway, despite our most committed efforts, someday it will be our turn to be the ground that our children pierce to raise from it. And there’s a soothing joy in that, like a tiny window in the dark, like a promise at dawn.