Fallen Mr. Trump | 02

Summer 2019 - A trip to the States, an evening in Chicago. Busy intersection, colorful lights everywhere. Great scenery. Life, pulsating, hectic, in flow, with skyscrapers marked by offensive neon signs. 

I take my analog 6x6, aware that the peculiarity of the camera gives me a kind of random product. The exposure correctly chosen, I allow the magic. The mystery of the moment. What may show itself...

Only the development of the negatives brings out the coincidence. The frequency of the city in pulsating clock visible. Hectic mass in hectic rhythm. Transfer in horizontal red and white tangibly condensed. Up and down and up and down. The recklessly blasé overtaking maneuver of Mr. Trump, who cannot keep up the frequency of the mass. He topples out of the zenith into the compression. What remains is a trembling, tired echo.