Flitting between light and shadow, and turning figures into geometric building blocks of a composition, Ismail Jaddi’s monochrome photographs speak to the fundamentals of photography. Helping him chart a turbulent period in his life, the 24-year-old photographer found solace in his camera which allowed him to speak when words weren’t available; to find form when what he was facing seemed to have no clear definition.
In essence, the project is about how he found/used photography as a tool to process his struggles with his mental health. How the principles of photography and his camera gave him a voice when he felt like he couldn’t use his own. The images reflect his mental state of being between presence and absence / dream and reality.
Taken along the streets and coasts of Jaddi’s home city Salé, Morocco, Unending is charged with a feeling of tension and release. In waiting out this difficult moment, he sharpened his gaze, looking outwards to explore and express the contradictions he was feeling internally. For Jaddi, the story that emerged was one of survival. “I was here. I felt this. And kept going.”
In this interview for LensCulture, Jaddi talks to Alyssa Monte about the origins of Unending, the vulnerabilities of sharing personal work and what he hopes to transmit through his work.
Ismail Jaddi: Unending came to me in a strange season of life, when things stopped making sense. I was going through personal struggles, facing questions that had no answers. I wasn’t trying to solve anything. I was just trying to stay present, to feel something real. Life felt absurd, unpredictable, sometimes even distant from me.
My camera, and especially my project Unending, became a quiet place where I could breathe; where I could meet myself without pretending. This work matters to me because I didn’t make it to prove anything. I made it to exist. It’s not about perfection. It’s about showing the contradictions of life and the quiet moments that usually go unnoticed. That’s why it feels honest. That’s why it feels mine.
AM: How long have you been working on this project?
IJ: I’ve been working it since 2021. It didn’t start with a plan. I wasn’t even thinking of making a project. I was simply living through some difficult moments, and little by little, the work appeared. I followed it without really knowing where it was taking me, and over time, I realized I was building something honest—something that speaks to the way life moves, without clear answers or clean lines. It’s still in progress. I don’t think I’ll ever fully finish it, because the feelings and questions behind it are still part of me. Some things take time. Some things stay with you.
AM: How does it feel to share a project that is so deeply personal and emotional?
IJ: It feels strange, honestly. To share something so personal is to let people walk into a part of me I usually keep quiet. It’s not always comfortable, but I’ve come to understand that it’s part of the process. I don’t share this work to be understood fully, I share it because it’s real. It’s what I lived, and maybe there’s something in it that other people can hold onto in their own way.
I’ve also learned that once you share something, it no longer belongs to you in the same way. People will see what they want to see, and that’s okay. What matters is that I stayed honest with myself while making it. That’s where I find peace.
AM: What do you hope people take away from seeing your photographs?
IJ: I’m not here to tell anyone what to feel. Through these images, I’m just showing how I see life in all of its absurdity, its questions, and the unfinished moments that don’t have clear answers. I’m not giving solutions. I’m inviting people to sit with the uncertainty, to float in it rather than swim against it. If someone feels, or sees life a little differently, after looking at the project, then that’s enough for me.
