Traversing Russia by train, from Vladivostok in the far east to the capital Moscow, hundreds of stories unfold just outside one’s window. Glimpses of life that leave us wondering what took place prior and what might occur next. There’s no time to find out though, as the train steadfastly continues along its 9289 km long journey across the Siberian heartlands.
Contrary to a conventional story with a beginning and an end, each transitory moment, frozen in the mind of the photographer and, with some luck, in the camera, becomes thus the starting point for our own imagination running wild. We envision the people in the photograph as protagonists in an unfolding plot.
These momentary encounters cut short by the unstoppable movement of the observer solicit an empathy with the characters. That the stories we make up are not the objective truth is besides the point. We’ve put ourselves into other people’s shoes and for more than a passing moment, the world feels a little less alien.
