Description
The image is taken by drone, above the karst reliefs of Hoa Lu, in that region of northern Vietnam known as the Ha Long Bay on land. At that uncertain hour when the day withdraws, the vegetation-covered summits follow one another in ever-paler waves towards a horizon eaten away by mist. At the centre, the river holds what remains of the sky: a thread of silver winding between the black masses, the only luminous marker in a landscape tipping over into night. Black and white pushes the scene to its limits — deep, almost opaque shadows, from which only the line of water and the gradation of the ridges emerge. It is an image of transition, at the hour between dog and wolf, when an entire territory seems to be reduced to a single gesture: the passage of water.
