A Sunday afternoon in the business centre, it’s the sad memory of the frantic Monday which is coming. In the same way, those pictures have the nostalgia of the future. Future of the ones who watch them without ever being present.

Future of the one that, with being here, left the shadow of his hanging life, the same one that makes the memory of objects his, like they were bodies.

In Rodrigo Gomez Rovira’s picture series on Valparaiso, it’s this big body that the city is which spreads its imagination from the empty streets, to the crowded homes.

When the interiors in the presence of no one are whispering their insisting existence, where the pores are resisting to the dust and the rust of an eternal present, the other interiors that are putting us face to face with people, are the witnesses of how those ones are going further than photography as if they were not here, out of time in the reflection of their own image.

Were not Ancient Greeks saying that the image is the phantasma ?

Ghosts, then. Surprised in their necessities of everyday life, of reading, of writing, of dancing, their necessity to watch and being watched.

Text by José Nordenflycht