Vanesa Martinez
Creative Campaigns & Art Direction for Local Brands
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Nine photographs. Eighty years. A kitchen, a chair, a camera that never moves.
Pablo was born in 1979 in his mother's arms. He returned to that chair at age 5, at age 12. At 18, the chair was empty, his denim jacket lying on top of it: he was gone. He returned at 25 with someone sitting on his lap. At 31, he was standing, combing his daughter's hair, who now occupied the chair. At 46, he was alone, facing it, filling it. At 60, he was younger, still in the same chair, looking at a photograph. At 85, the chair was empty again, with a folded blanket.
The two most important images in the series are empty. They are the same shot, the same five o'clock light, the same long shadow. One is about leaving. The other is about not returning.
The house ages with him: the linoleum wears out, the walls peel, the kitchen empties. The chair outlives them all.
Pablo does not exist. He was never born.
Concept, direction and execution: mine. Images generated with gpt-image-2, from a notebook, in one morning
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Nine photographs. Eighty years. A kitchen, a chair, a camera that never moves.
Pablo was born in 1979 in his mother's arms. He returned to that chair at age 5, at age 12. At 18, the chair was empty, his denim jacket lying on top of it: he was gone. He returned at 25 with someone sitting on his lap. At 31, he was standing, combing his daughter's hair, who now occupied the chair. At 46, he was alone, facing it, filling it. At 60, he was younger, still in the same chair, looking at a photograph. At 85, the chair was empty again, with a folded blanket.
The two most important images in the series are empty. They are the same shot, the same five o'clock light, the same long shadow. One is about leaving. The other is about not returning.
The house ages with him: the linoleum wears out, the walls peel, the kitchen empties. The chair outlives them all.
Pablo does not exist. He was never born.
Concept, direction and execution: mine. Images generated with gpt-image-2, from a notebook, in one morning.
3
78
Nine photographs. Eighty years. A kitchen, a chair, a camera that never moves.
Pablo was born in 1979 in his mother's arms. He returned to that chair at age 5, at age 12. At 18, the chair was empty, his denim jacket lying on top of it: he was gone. He returned at 25 with someone sitting on his lap. At 31, he was standing, combing his daughter's hair, who now occupied the chair. At 46, he was alone, facing it, filling it. At 60, he was younger, still in the same chair, looking at a photograph. At 85, the chair was empty again, with a folded blanket.
The two most important images in the series are empty. They are the same shot, the same five o'clock light, the same long shadow. One is about leaving. The other is about not returning.
The house ages with him: the linoleum wears out, the walls peel, the kitchen empties. The chair outlives them all.
Pablo does not exist. He was never born.
Concept, direction and execution: mine. Images generated with gpt-image-2, from a notebook, in one morning.
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131
Surgery. Then discharge.
Same machine that arrived destroyed walks out spotless. Nobody bought a new one.
His phone hasn't stopped since. He can't keep up with the requests.
Give me a product nobody looks at twice and I'll build it a world.
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