Images and words by Barbara Silbe www.barbarasilbe.com www.qgphoto.com Photography for me a world where nothing can hurt, muffled space where negative thoughts are spent and everything converges towards creative action. Keeping the eye in the viewfinder was like a kind of antidepressant therapy that helped me in moments (…)
Pictures and wordsby Barbara Silbewww.barbarasilbe.comwww.qgphoto.com
Photography for me a world where nothing can hurt, muffled space where negative thoughts are extinguished and everything converges towards creative action. Keeping my eye in the crosshair was for me like a kind of antidepressant therapy that has helped me in negative moments of life, for I can't say if I first started taking pictures or writing about photography. Perhaps true that almost without realizing it my two tracks ended up intersecting and becoming one within the newspaper where I work, and from there they are boundless. You are not badly balanced between images and words, it is always a matter of telling a story to those who want to listen to it. And this is my job. It happens on the street, when I frame a scene that captured my attention and I was excited to have seen it. It happens when the poetry of a natural landscape or the form of architecture enchants me. It happens And my shots always speak of moods, of things lived, places crossed, flashes of memories that come back to look for me. They talk about me. And what I think. I remember that as a child I was attracted to the faces I saw in old family snapshots. Those expressions said a lot about the people who wore them: they sent me their emotions, fears, hopes. I often remember when I do a portrait. I think of the sensations exchanged between author and subject, I think of how much two individuals can also give themselves in life, if only they can open up to each other. Even in that case I use words to tune in to the person in front of me, to loosen the rigidity of those who are not used to being posed in front of a camera. I tell him or ask him something, I distract him, and as soon as he smiles I know that I managed to open that little passage that makes me glimpse his soul for the time of a click.