In 2006 I moved from Jerusalem to Tel Aviv. Two cities are undoubtedly and expectantly different. But one peculiar Tel Aviv quality reminded me of “Mulholland Drive” by David Lynch. Walking its quiet and pastoral streets one sometimes comes across dark alleyways and corners, where the man sits holding the blue key to the city dweller’s midnight fears.
It is it’s technical qualities that allow the photographic film to accumulate light, rendering the obscure scenery visible and all the moving life transparent. In the resulting image the terrifying dark trails present themselves as ordinary side streets and nigh flânuers live an invisible trace.
In “White Nights” series I, as it’s author, am present in every image. In some, the ghostly body is more recognizable then in others, but it is nevertheless literally a constitutive part of every one of them.
