At a time when images circulate without restraint—driven by speed, flow, and instantaneity—what space remains for photography as an act of attention? And what can the artist do in the face of visual exhaustion, the noise of the world, and the many forms of forgetting?
This exhibition proposes a form of quiet resistance. For what still looks back at us is also what these artists choose to see, to reveal, to preserve. An unknown flower, perhaps imaginary, yet persistent within each of us. A nocturnal light that prevents plants from sleeping. An archive resting on a sheet of paper. A glacier covered in tarps like a half-dressed wound. A tiny automaton still dancing in a sleeping workshop.
While our societies mask finitude with distraction, technology, or entertainment, these artists remind us that there is beauty in slowness, in attentiveness, in silence. And that to resist, today, may begin with this: to look differently at what surrounds us. And to decide that it is still worthy of being seen.
Each photographer, in their own way, acts as a watchkeeper, a transmitter. Their works weave a fragmentary narrative made of signs, shadows, and resurgences. They explore what resists erasure: the body, matter, energies, rituals, the traces of the living.
Through four curatorial threads conceived as constellations, the exhibition brings together over twenty-four artists and sketches a terrain that is at once poetic, political, and sacred.