What Remains Between Words
Between light and shadow.
Between appearance and disappearance.
In the moment when meaning
has not yet formed,
but is already felt.
,
I am not interested in objects, but in their traces:
residual light,
a shadow without a source,
a reflection that has lost
what it was meant to reflect.
The project incorporates Joseph Brodsky’s poem
Isaac and Abraham.
In the biblical story, the pause between the raised knife
and the angel’s cry barely exists.
Brodsky expands this pause -
a state in which everything has already been decided,
but has not yet happened.
I take pages of the poem and remove the words, leaving only punctuation:
periods,
commas,
dashes.
What remains between words.
Here, punctuation functions in the same way as light in the photographs:
as a form of pause,
as a trace,
as the rhythm of what cannot be named directly.
The photographs and the pages are presented as diptychs.
They do not illustrate each other.
They simply exist side by side.
These are two forms of silence.
And perhaps it is within this silence that something becomes audible.