Photograph

Photographs—especially those that admit us with the slightest of means—have always been more captivating to me. A photograph frames the world, yet here the frame itself has become the subject; what this frame shows us, or where this window opens onto, remains entirely unclear. The photographer stands in this corner only to see that light, only to lead us back into the room, as if wanting us to see the interior and the darkness of the room. The boundary between this dark room and that bright space both confines us and pulls us outward. The frame that was supposed to present the three-dimensional world on a flat window has now turned toward us, gained volume, and with its trapezoidal form has ultimately flattened into an image that declares the photograph’s only subject is photography itself.