Dereliction
There are places that seem to have been forgotten long before they were abandoned. Closed façades, deserted roads, silent buildings—these landscapes speak less of catastrophe than of a slow disappearance. They preserve the memory of a human presence now reduced to traces, while time quietly continues its work.
Dereliction is a word that evokes abandonment, but also a deeper feeling: that of being left alone in a world that has become strangely unfamiliar.
This is what I seek through this series.
I am not interested in ruins for their dramatic appeal. The places that draw me are often ordinary: a shuttered house, an empty shop, a secondary road, a building whose purpose seems to have dissolved with time. There is nothing spectacular about them. Yet something has shifted. An absence has settled in.
These photographs are not intended to document declining territories or illustrate a narrative of collapse. Instead, they explore the quiet moment when a place gradually slips out of the present. Long before buildings disappear, their purpose fades. Memory erodes before matter does.
I like to think of these landscapes not simply as witnesses to a vanished past, but as open spaces where each viewer can project their own memories, anxieties or stories. Suspended somewhere between what has been and what may yet come, they inhabit a time that remains uncertain.