Colors of Wien
Vienna, early October.
The light fades, the shadows lengthen, and the city begins to vibrate with colors one didn't necessarily expect.
It's not just the foliage. It's a necklace of contrasts: the gold of a Secessionist ceiling against the blue of a crane, the red of a market fruit against the gray stone of a statue, the pink of a cake against the black of a nighttime façade.
Gold and concrete
The glass pavilion sits in the grass like an object placed there by mistake. Behind it, trees still green. Further on, the red crane cuts across the sky above the rooftops. Vienna builds, Vienna restores, Vienna continues. Time never stops completely, even when the leaves start to turn.
The market and the table
On the stalls, colors burst forth: oranges, melons, grapes, dragon fruit. Wine bottles line up, cakes with cream and cherries wait. A plate of Kaiserschmarrn still warm, drizzled with plum. Here, autumn is eaten as much as it is watched. The city nourishes itself from its own hues.
Art that overflows
A detail from Klimt. A gilded bas-relief that proclaims « Der Zeit ihre Kunst ». A poster for Bruegel. A porcelain geisha. A pink plastic flamingo planted in a flower bed. White horses standing still. Bronze sculptures with absent gazes. Vienna accumulates fragments of art as others accumulate memories. Nothing is really put away.
Night and day
By day, a park with perfectly trimmed hedges under a still clear sky. At night, the opera or the theatre light up, the streets adorn themselves with warm lights, the market tents remain open. Two Viennas overlap without ever contradicting each other.
These photographs do not seek the postcard. They capture what remains when one stops looking for the essential: the details, the gaps, the colors that answer each other without explaining themselves.
Vienna in autumn is not more beautiful.
It is simply more visible.
Florent T.
