My practice begins with photography — field work, documentary in intention, attentive to human presence in transit spaces, museums, cities passed through. These images are then transformed through digital processes until they reach a pictorial state that no longer quite belongs to photography, without being painting in the traditional sense either. The final work, produced in limited editions on cotton paper, is where the image finds its material form, its permanence — and settles into the fragility of a single sheet.

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What I look for in each series is less the documentation of a place than the trace of a presence — or an absence, a gradual disappearance. I often choose to watch those who are watching, rather than see what they see. Chance plays an essential role, guiding me through a topography of a world as much imagined as lived, as much virtual as real, where each moment carries within it something of the moment that preceded it — and already its erasure.

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This work on the dissolution of places, bodies and faces — on what remains after — runs through all my series: figures in Toulouse pushed to the edge of their own recognisability; the Buren columns at the Palais Royal; the rooms of the Guimet museum; the wagons of a train between Paris and Brussels; the galleries of the National Portrait Gallery and the British Museum in London. Each series is a different point of entry into the same question.