Catherine Izzo’s photos start with black and come back to that point, designing piercing trails of light into the opaqueness of things. The enigmatic density of an abandoned mooring block, deserted quays of a doubtful harbor, tousled flamboyancy of a baroque tree : speaking continuously, white on black, always of life that is already there and out of reach, of beings that time has taken from us but whose remembrance still pierces memory. And the irremediable vocation of things, tools of this world giving testimony. Half-light of reminiscence, the bars, a garret, a tin plate designating the one missing. Light, outside, is blinding. Yes life was there, did we live it, or were we the languid ghosts behind the window ? We become for an instant this halted glance. Behind the walls, silence resonates to shrillness.