Postiaux Maxime

I photograph places. Houses, old stone, rooms where people have lived, buildings that have stood longer than anyone can remember.

I’ve always been the one who lingers in a doorway. Who runs a hand along the wall on the way past. Who notices the light has shifted before anyone says it’s getting late. Photography gave that habit somewhere to go.

When I arrive somewhere, I don’t start with the camera. I walk around. I wait. I watch the morning come through a shutter, the way lime plaster holds a shadow, how a corridor pulls you toward the next room. Usually one small thing shows me where to begin: a worn step, a chair left at an angle, a patch of sun on the floor.

What I’m after isn’t only what a place looks like. It’s what it feels like to stand there. The quiet, the warmth of the light, the sense that someone has just left the room.

If you look at one of my photographs and feel you could step inside, then I’ve done what I set out to do.