I've often wondered: where do thoughts that wander go?
I've often wondered: where do thoughts that wander go?
Divine creatures whose function is to observe, note, bear witness and report, angels also perform this task of fixing seemingly unimportant things.
The Angels' respectful distance from the adult world is a tender, if ironic, approach. These nameless beings perceive our innermost desires, witnessing the passions and anxieties of humans in search of meaning and beauty.
The Angel observes people and listens to them. From the child who draws to the old poet worn out by years who drags himself to find his past. From the motorist who gets run over to the delightful acrobat who soars through the air. The Angel observes, but has nothing to learn. Yes, he already knows everything. He always has. The time for questions has never arrived for him: he knows where time begins and space ends, he knows that this one is worried about her son or that this one doesn't want to cross paths with his sister. And he's tired of knowing.
We've all wondered at times whether small everyday gestures, no matter how insignificant, are observed by some mind that remembers and, so to speak, retains them, as in a storybook or encyclopedia, or whether, on the other hand, these seemingly insignificant gestures are abandoned to the river of becoming, discarded and forgotten for the future.
At birth, an Angel visits all the children and tells them about the life to come. When he leaves, he leaves a mark above the mouth, a sign of the amnesia of knowledge. To be born, one must forget. But if every man forgets this secret, the Angel remembers and carries the burden of knowing the secret of life.
When the child was a child, he didn't know he was a child. But the Angel was never a child, and he wishes to become one. For him, joining the world of men means finally possessing this mark of the Angel. For Angels, freedom begins where knowledge ends.
Photographing Angels means recapturing as much as possible of the magic of everyday life, the wonder of life in peace, so that it doesn't fall into oblivion. In this way, my photographs fulfill the task of the angels. Unveiling these images is my profane and imperfect solution to a traditionally divine task.
In this sense, the use of black and white for the Angels, as if they only saw the essentials of things, is inescapable.
Special thanks to the film "Der Himmel über Berlin" by Wim Wenders who allowed me to meet these Angels.
Thanks to Eliséo Subiela for his film "No te mueras sin decirme adónde vas", which enabled me to see beyond.
