Horizons

On the south coast of England, where the cliffs meet the Atlantic and the sky merges with the sea, ‘Horizons’ is born, a poetic investigation into the relationship of human beings with the horizon, that frontier between what we see and what we imagine, a symbol of the unattainable and of what is to come. Because the horizon is not a fixed limit, but a personal construction, and each individual, by looking at the sea, creates his or her own, filling it with meaning, memories and longings.

This work is also a personal exploration: Alex Llovet has spent ten years photographing the sea in Cornwall, where his in-laws live, observing the uses and customs that the British make of their coast, and thus trying to understand that identity that has been borrowed from them. For them, it seems to be both a place of recreation and contemplation, as well as a place of resistance to the elements, of communion with nature, of tradition. Cornwall, in particular, is a land where history and geography have shaped a way of life. Here, the horizon is not just a point in the distance, but a constant reminder of Britain's insularity, of its connection with the sea as a means of escape, of trade, adventure and defence. In these horizons, Llovet tries to recognise the gaze of those around him, to understand their sense of belonging and, in a way, to make it his own.
 
As for the photobook, the page layout responds to a visually simple but symbolically powerful idea: the horizon always remains at the same height, while the photographs move up or down, evoking the movement of the tides and turning the sequence of the book into a continuous flow, like the ocean's own breathing in the swaying of the water on the shore. Indeed, ‘Horizons’ is above all a praise of contemplation, a reminder of the need to stop, observe and exist in a world that seems to want to push us, more and more, to advance relentlessly.