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A French family expatriated to Los Angeles for professional reasons. The luxurious house, the pool, the Mexican gardener, the American dream. The mid-life crisis. Suddenly not loving each other anymore. Blaming your wife, dreaming of Freedom with a capital letter, hating your life, wanting to go back. Throwing it all away. Doing successes in front of the pool all day, with a glass of white wine in your hand. The only contact with the outside world is the pool-guy. In the evening, with the children in bed and the husband far away, repeating to yourself: 'This can't be happening'.
One day, to take your survival instinct. And your car. Avoid the motorways, end up on dead-end dirt roads. In the middle of the night, not passing anyone. At nine o'clock in the evening, curtain up. Everything is over. Only the neon lights of the diners remain: OPEN. And deserted. Cowboys, Indians. Stares into the void. Sketched stories.
Crossing them. Photographing them. Only passing through. To leave. They stay there. Will not move. Printed in my pictures. Embodied in our pictures, by dint of having inspired over the years those who passed by. Whole lives passing within a few miles. Somewhere in Utah, New Mexico or Arizona. At the entrance to a no-man's land. These tiny wanderings in the vastness of the American territory. These solitudes. These immobile traces. Our own.
And suddenly, to realize that somewhere else is waiting for you. And that this elsewhere is finally the promise, tenuous certainly, but the promise all the same, that makes you feel alive again: that of all possibilities.
Charlotte Bresson, who was destined to be a private detective, gave up shadowing but kept her curiosity about the world by leaving their share of mystery and suggestiveness to the things around her. The spaces and objects photographed thus become so many immobile moments that tell the story of Man in filigree.
A freelance photographer, she co-founded the collective Sensitive Images, with whom she exhibited in London and Paris and won the Discovery Prize awarded by Peter Knapp at the Pierrevert Festival in 2014.
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