1974, Châtenay-Malabry, France, lives in Paris.
Cédric Delsaux invites us to take a step sideways, into an anterior future or a counterfeit present where humanity has been quite simply erased from the map; it seems to be an attempt to counter enslavement by speed and technology. In the series entitled Dark Lens, familiar yet disturbing characters from Star Wars, transplanted into contemporary settings, have been socialized into our banal, hyper-urbanized daily lives or set in grim post-industrial wastelands. They lose their aura, but acquire an unsettling strangeness; they seem to be running on empty, driven by a violence that has no purpose. Whereas Star Wars is a flamboyant epic story of an intergalactic democracy gone wrong, Dark Lens causes a contextual shift that sounds very much like a warning. This already obsolete dictatorial technological power provides a chilling adumbration of a future that is fictional, yet possible: an archaeological worst-case scenario. Dark Lens stands midway between cinematographic memory, static photographic images and dystopian projections that the development of mega-cities imprints on our minds, synchronized as they are by globalisation.