He wandered through undetermined spaces where the river, the train tracks, and the hills cut through the land creating pieces of isolated urban formations. The fragmented topography of the city of Los Angeles offers many corners, recesses, nooks and dead ends. It is difficult to circulate in those areas. Many times while traversing this landscape he was forced to turn around. In those unsettling places, partly populated, partly industrial or vacant, when the sun sets the environment turns eerie.
When one decides to press the shutter some things can happen beyond one’s intention. When Daguerre took the famous photograph of the Parisian boulevard in 1838 from his apartment window with a long exposure time, all moving traffic disappeared except for a man who was standing still while having his shoes shined. It is as if the photograph has its own decision to make, its own independent life. One can of course regard this process as pure luck, incidental, without signification. And yet, it is precisely this aspect, the unexpected, that seems to throw the project into the logic of déjà vu. I am here speaking of the fleeting figure of a man who resembles a theatrical personification of the harbinger of death, at the back of the dead end street.