Who knows what our cities would be like if they were empty. Sometimes we asked ourselves, sometimes with difficulty we tried to imagine it, other times we saw it on TV. Cities are not empty, as we have often heard repeated in these weeks of pandemic. We see them empty if we make them coincide with their public space and if we think that they are exhausted in their metaphysical image, which newspapers and social networks have proposed to us in the days of pandemic. But at the same time looking, not only with our eyes, we see that these cities remain full of life, bodies and souls, ours, which remain invisible, lives compressed in the modest or precious anthills that are our homes, is within us, we feel the loss of a time that has expanded, we feel anxiety,  that not even being able to read or think deeply about the things we do.
In these weeks of quarantine we have all understood that our very idea of living has entered into crisis, which in its deepest sense does not end in the home, but transcends it, otherwise we would not have had so much difficulty accepting this isolation. It plays in that fragile balance between inside and outside, between the need to seclude and the call of collective life. We are wounded in certainties, divided in affections, separated from all that we love.
From the desire to tell these sensations… The idea of “telling” these cities and these empty spaces of the world was born, so fascinating, but also so anxious… and to photograph them through videos and photos found on the web and to “stop time” with an old Poloroid Instant.