ECM

There are experiences that leave a lasting mark, especially when those experiences are lived intensely, at the age of 18, and bring a freedom never before experienced.
Dublin, 1990.
Dublin, 2022.
I return to this city after 32 years, aware that I may not recognize it. Back then, I was a newcomer to black and white photography. Now, I return as a photographer with some experience, but with some apprehension because I don't know how I will approach photographing this city to capture any trace (if it exists) of that Dublin.
I remember the streets I used to walk, often alone. I revisit those same spaces.
It's a search for the past in the present.
The real versus the remembered (fragile and distorted by the passage of time).
I feel confusion, chaos, and haste.
I search and observe for the first 24 hours, unable to take photographs. After that time, when I finally decide to pick up the camera, the photographs remain superficial. I don't feel them or get excited about them. I must search for something deeper.
At times, the city perplexes me.
What has changed?
I aim my camera at O'Connell Bridge from a wooden walkway. While doing so, I feel vibrations and heartbeats within me.
It's the rhythm and heartbeat of the city itself, flowing with people at every step. That is what has changed.
That is what I want to photograph. I go with the flow. I sync with that rhythm. With the camera in hand and a slow shutter speed, I gauge the city's pulse. I don't know what I will get from what I am photographing, but it will be the difference between the Dublin of my memory and the Dublin of the present.
Now I know: "When one misses a place, what one really misses is the time that corresponds to that place; places are not missed, but times are,"as Jorge Luis Borges rightly said.
And I conclude: without that trip 32 years ago, the photos of today's Dublin would not have been these. It could have been any other city, but it was and is Dublin.