In the circles of the orbits, in the rhythm of years, months and days, we get used to the order which remains unrecognized. During the day, we face the impression that we’re able to grasp the reality, to sense, to know, to be convinced that what we see is not deceptive. Nightfall bewilders us, seduces us into blindness, to closing the gates of knowledge and giving up the desire to penetrate deeper. And yet, it’s in the darkness that things are born and die; it’s in the night that the heavenly signs are brought out, according to which man has directed his steps for thousands of years. Darkness is only a lack of light. If we surpass our limitations and take a look around, we can see the enchanting colours and shapes that have stopped in the midnight calmness or that have been buffeted by alarming gusts. Driven by our accelerating heartbeat, we look at what we pass by during the day, and thanks to the shadows of the Moon we can understand the dimensions of the Earth; thanks to the sparkling stars we can perceive the infiniteness of space and time; and thanks to the echoes of our breath we realize our strength and fragility. The remnants of light, one four-hundred-thousandth of the day’s sunshine, the process of development. Photographs that denied the darkness. To be forced to immobilize and quiet down. To sense the movement inside. To experience the possibility of making the invisible visible. The landscape and man in the unseen, yet real light. Moondust is about finding nocturnal places, connecting them with the inner landscapes of feelings and revealing them in the unseen, yet real light. Moondust is about the fragile raw beauty of the Earth and us on it.

I take photographs at night. People and places in the moonlight. People in their own private space and time. Places that reveal themselves to me. The exposure is long, so my photographed subjects need to stand still for a while, almost breathless. In those few minutes, when we are forced to immobilize, I am able to become intimate with them. Here and now, in the silence, sharing time and space, the quietness and the inner suspense. The rawness of the now.

Yet, I never see clearly. I am like a hunter, waiting for the ideal shape to appear, intuitively searching for the perfect composition. And I never see the people as they are. Not in the darkness during the shooting, not afterwards in the photographs. The combination of the silver moonlight and long exposure uncovers many layers of their personality, sandwiched together in the final picture.

The result of our shared intimate moment is a blurred image, no sharp details, only fuzzy silhouettes and a lot of question marks.

I take photographs at night. People and places in the moonlight. People in their own private space and time. Places that reveal themselves to me. The exposure is long, so my photographed subjects need to stand still for a while, almost breathless. In those few minutes, when we are forced to immobilize, I am able to become intimate with them. Here and now, in the silence, sharing time and space, the quietness and the inner suspense. The rawness of the now.

Yet, I never see clearly. I am like a hunter, waiting for the ideal shape to appear, intuitively searching for the perfect composition. And I never see the people as they are. Not in the darkness during the shooting, not afterwards in the photographs. The combination of the silver moonlight and long exposure uncovers many layers of their personality, sandwiched together in the final picture.

The result of our shared intimate moment is a blurred image, no sharp details, only fuzzy silhouettes and a lot of question marks.