The view

London, September 2022.

Portraits on each storefront. Her pixelated face followed by her name, white on black, form a circle that spins at the top of the tower dominating the city. And these two years, repeated over and over again, as if to recall the whole life spent by her side. And to forget everything else, probably. All that could anger, and anger some, which we don’t hear that much.
Farther, the city prepares itself. Reorganized with great reinforcement of barriers, policewomen and policemen.
To orientate the flow of the crowd expected the next day, some signs are discreetly integrated among the urban furniture. No ordinary posters quickly composed on a software and quickly printed, no. Beautiful, sober cardboard signs. Discreet as if they had always been there. As if they wanted in their own way to make this “view” towards which they point an eternal space.

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