Even In Darkness

Filmmaker's note

Time. A dance with this inevitable force served as the impetus for this story. It is said time consumes all, but surely its greatest prey is our fascination. As humans, we dig deep into the earth, we inspect the growth rings of trees and fire rockets into space. All to inch us closer to an understanding, or perhaps a reckoning, with time.

Just as the archaeologist unearths ruins from eons past, the photographer brushes away the layers of mud and debris to reveal the hidden power of an image, unleashing its true essence. Yet the true beauty of an image lies not in its timestamp, but in its timelessness—a quality that transcends the force we perceive as inescapable. A powerful image carries such a deeply human quality that it allows us to see ourselves reflected in the shimmering past. Time as a linear force dissolves, and the boundaries between 'then' and 'now' blur into murky constructs.

I first encountered Richard Sandler as I imagine most people have - at a distance. First on paper and later in his human form. The latter took place on a rainy Thursday evening at a downtown theater. Beneath a slouched beret, Richard stood in front of a crowd. His spectacles sat precariously on the end of his nose. I felt the silence as he spoke. He delivered his words with a firm concentration, speaking with an understanding of the weight art holds in our modern world.

Street photography is as distinct a medium. There are few other art forms that take something so passable and mundane - a sidewalk, a corner, an alleyway - and eternalise that moment. The good ones set us on fire with a single image. For the rest of our lives we are changed; no longer do we walk with passing eyes. Instead, a curiosity and acuity has been granted, bestowed upon us as we move through the street.

It’s almost as if you’ve been offered a new spectrum of light, or at least that's how it felt that night as I walked home. My city's shallow, withered face staring back at me on my commute. When I came to make this film, I wanted to retain this vision I’d been granted. To step closer and closer to the story - much like Sandler's more provocative creations - and grant new eyes to the audience.

Eventually I entered Richard’s world, all my preconceived notions quickly faded. I helped him move a mass of vinyls, photobooks and archival folders into his new apartment. In what became like clockwork, I would come by his place, he would brew coffee and then we would talk. We started at the beginning, and over the course of weeks made our way to present. A slow meandering walk through time, scraping at the residue of one’s memories.

Eventually, I felt ready to begin filming. I knew I didn't want to make another photographic emulation; there was something more here. And so, I let that feeling pull me all the way down, into the blueish depths of the past.

My hope for this film mirrors that of all great photos: may you be compelled by its beauty and form, but above all, may you be moved by the life that flows through it. Life dedicated to craft. Life spent in the equilibrium of an analogue image. A life in defiance of time.

Kitalé Wilson.