It Is Always The Same:

Cities Are Distinguished By The Catastrophic Forms They Presuppose And Which Are A Vital Part Of Their Essential Charm. New York Is King Kong, Or The Blackout, Or Vertical Bombardment: Towering Inferno. Los Angeles Is The Horizontal Fault, California Breaking Off And Sliding Into The Pacific: Earthquake.

The Need To Speak, Even If One Has Nothing To Say, Becomes More Pressing When One Has Nothing To Say, Just As The Will To Live Becomes More Urgent When Life Has Lost Its Meaning.

The Desert Is A Natural Extension Of The Inner Silence Of The Body.

This False Distance Is Present Everywhere: In Spy Films, In Godard, In Modern Advertising, Which Uses It Continually As A Cultural Allusion. It Is Not Really Clear In The End Whether This 'cool' Smile Is The Smile Of Humour Or That Of Commercial Complicity. This Is Also The Case With Pop, And Its Smile Ultimately Encapsulates All Its Ambiguity: It Is Not The Smile Of Critical Distance, But The Smile Of Collusion

For Me, The Photography, In Its Purest Form, Is A Variant Of The Fable. Another Way Of Saving The Appearances - A Way Of Signifying, Through This Fabulous Capture, That This Supposed Real World Is Always About To Lose Its Meaning And Its Reality.