An archive already aware of its own mortality.

Photo-object (40 \ 50 cm). 

Typological series of 16 photographs (62 \ 46 mm), assembled within a single frame. 

A time-based work that activates an Instax-like fading process, allowing the images to gradually bleach and transform over time.

My project is about memory and our trust in photography: about how we try to “preserve” a moment even though the image (like memory itself) inevitably shifts and fades away. 

It is a series of small photographs arranged as a catalogue. I am not photographing a “story, ” but recurring elements of a musical reality: hand gestures, instruments, pauses, identical viewpoints, and details. Meaning emerges not from a single frame, but from the sequence as a whole—when you compare images and begin to notice differences. 

I chose the Düsseldorf School approach because it offers a clear, calm, almost scientific gaze. This method allows music to be seen as a system: rhythm, repetition, discipline, and the labour of the body and the instrument. 

The photographs are printed on Fujifilm Instax Mini, and that choice is essential. These prints will gradually fade. For me, this is not a “flaw, ” but part of the concept: photography here is not about permanent preservation, but about how an image weakens over time—just as memories do. The project becomes a slow disappearance, unfolding in real time before the viewer’s eyes. 

The format is deliberately small, so the viewer has to come close. This gesture of proximity is part of the work: the viewer slows down, looks carefully, as if listening with their eyes. 

One more detail: among the photographs, there is one image generated entirely by a neural network. It functions as a concealed cue and a question: if one frame has no indexical tie to reality, where is the boundary between document and fiction—and whom do we trust when we look at a photograph?