Post. by Philippe Calia
“Dislocated monads, here we are at the end of our prudent mopes, our well-planned anomalies: more than one sign heralds the hegemony of delirium.”
Paris and London. Two capital cities separated by the sea, nevertheless belonging to the same continent: Europe. Two poles of my life also, between which I had been shifting regularly over the past two years. In this binary existence, Post. had finally become the unifying thread.
This series of photographs stands as a chronicle of daily contingences and hallucinations encountered along my wanderings, as much as a deliberate survey of the city’s anatomy. While the signs of the urban environment I was tracking down started to leave their imprint on my mood, my own state of mind was drawing me to the shadiest corners of the town. I was shooting quite frenetically. Mostly at night. And if it happened during the day, then that would be underground, in the city’s swarming bowels.
Post. came out like a scream, so high-pitched that it melted with silence. It was the sensorial expression of an intellectual deadlock I was experiencing while facing a certain contemporary ideology. Excerpts:
Post-World War II
It seemed as if we, European societies, had supposedly reached the “End of History” and that nothing new could come “after”, that everything was just irony, deconstruction and reference to the past. So much that any form of commitment would now appear impossible.
In spite of the apparent nihilism that can stem from these lines, this work is not, in any case, trying to prophesize some apocalyptic destiny for European societies. It simply approaches their way of life without complacency and with humour, as cruel as it might look at times.