Studio Hans Lucas is an innovative and open-minded collaborative broadcasting platform dedicated to photography and digital literacy. Based in Paris, but with a growing international footprint, the studio is involved with photo, video and multimedia content production. It also trains producers at all levels.

Each month, members of the studio contribute their images to an online publication titled “Previously on Hans Lucas.” Each issue is conceived in participation with a different curator. We have featured previews of the last three on LensCulture—#8 with Juan Peces, #9 with Nicolas Havette and #10 with Fanny Lambert.

The latest edition, #11, is prefaced by a poetic text by Éléonore Antzenberger, a talented writer, researcher, editor and lover of words and images.

The carbon print of a momentous and definite instant incises the world in the rectangle of morning. Elsewhere, the night infuses—without joy—the green of the blue street lamps.
The Sleeping Ones: beautiful as strangers, torn from intoxication.
The metal eye blinds the wrinkles of a phalanx.

The pink smile of acidulated curtains storms the all-powerful distress of deserted souls.
Immobile, we think of that other smile, split with a cigarette; of that panting torso.
Immobile, we will not go further,
Further from the disturbing absolute, struck by the burning of a unique wall
Even if ostensibly filled by infinity, disfigured with a few letters
The sun of the dunes. Let us stop to catch our breath
And breathe in these magnificent eels
Like the radiant twist of a reptilian throat.

Bare she sleeps,
Curled up in her mane of farewell
And this grimacing, contemplating skin is only the reflection of a mask that laughs
Upside down.
She sleeps and we sleep,
Unconscious and carefree.

Meanwhile, we are still thinking of the one who collapsed; his back slumped against the lash of the closed eyelids of another. He shines in contact with the purple taffeta, with the emerald—he is moved by that vivid, little blue rectangle of morning.

Silky as well, the human shadow gently lurks.
Invisible, we dream.

—Éléonore Antzenberger

Editors’ note: See the full issue of Previously on Hans Lucas #11 on the publication’s dedicated webpage. And keep an eye out for more of these POHL features on the LensCulture website in the months to come.