- Galeria Local Newsletter
- Posts
- Issue 22: The Scale of Seeing
Issue 22: The Scale of Seeing
From Bénédicte Blondeau’s expanded vision to the repetitions that bind everyday life.
GALERIA LOCAL

by Bénédicte Blondeau
Welcome — and thank you for reading.
WelcomeThis issue moves through different thresholds of seeing — from the intimate to the geological, from fiction to awareness, from the garden to the city. Each section considers how photography and narrative can shift our relation to the world, allowing perception itself to unfold. We open with an extended conversation with Bénédicte Blondeau, whose work evolves from the self-contained spaces of Lieux intimes to the elemental and fluid vision of Ondes. Across these projects, she reflects on the photographic act as a form of translation — between self and landscape, matter and memory, the visible and what lies beyond the frame. In Narrative Layers, I turn to Rosie Stagg’s story Nothing New Here, a quiet but piercing study of repetition and denial. Within the confines of a single car ride, it exposes how routine and awareness coexist — how we tell ourselves stories to remain coherent, even when meaning erodes. | Looking forward, a conversation with photographer Zackery Hobler, set for a future issue, will probe the delicate boundary between nature and inner worlds. Join this exploration of images that provokeAnd finally, a note ahead: Arcádia – Second Edition opens on 23 November 2025, following its debut at Galeria Local. The exhibition continues to explore the fragile borders between the natural and the constructed city, inviting visitors to experience its stillness and tension firsthand. Together, these pieces trace a single movement — an inquiry into how we look, how we persist, and how images, stories, and spaces keep unfolding in time.. and resonate. —Jorge |
In-Conversation with Bénédicte Blondeau
From intimate rooms to geological time, her photographic vision unfolds
It was a true pleasure to sit down with Belgian photographer Bénédicte Blondeau and explore the arc of her practice—from the introspective self-portraits of Lieux intimes to the elemental sweep of her recent series Ondes. Over our conversation she reflected on the role of photography in negotiating self, nature, time and space, and how the medium itself remains an enigma: both record and suggestion, frame and beyond-frame.

Origins & Vision
Blondeau first encountered photography during her Master’s in Applied Communication in Brussels (completed 2010), where she explored audiovisual media within a communications framework. She explains that the photographic medium felt different: “It was more of an enigma… a challenge to really work with only one still image that can … evoke a feeling.” Over evening courses in Ghent and later the advanced course at Ar.Co in Lisbon (2016) she turned more decisively to photography as artistic expression.
Her work since then has centred on long-term projects, deeply tied to her life phases. As she describes:
“Photography is a sort of translation of a perception that I have and that is in constant evolution.”
Her earliest phases were strongly autobiographical, rooted in self-portraiture and the confines of intimate environments; gradually the frame widened—first to nature, then to geological scale. She views this not as progression in the sense of improvement, but as a shift in vantage: “I started more self-centred… and now I really don’t feel as a closed entity anymore.” The turning point, she says, came with her relocation from Belgium to Portugal, and then the arrival of motherhood—both experiences disrupting the self/other boundary.
Lieux intimes
![]() by Bénédicte Blondeau | ![]() by Bénédicte Blondeau |
In the early series Lieux intimes, Blondeau photographed intervening spaces—her house, corners of rooms, fragments of the body—resonant with introspection and vulnerability. These images are dark, self-referential, almost therapeutic: the camera as a way to make visible what couldn’t yet be named. She says: “My work is about perception — it is how I look at the world at a particular moment … the autobiographical aspect is inherent to my approach.”
In this series we see the camera as mirror: the subject may be absent or only partially present, but the faint trace of presence turns the house into a psyche-scape. The visceral intimacy of textiles, curtains, subdued light, body-fragments gives space to uncertainty, to the slow process of self-discovery.
Anesthesia
Moving from the fully intimate to a threshold state, the project Anesthesia explores liminality—“an in-between… between body and textures and environments,” as Blondeau explains. The images are muted, often monochrome or low-saturation, showing empty corridors, waiting rooms, slight human traces, soft textures echoing flesh or fabric.
The title itself is intriguingly paradoxical: anesthesia suggests numbness, absence of feeling—but these photographs invite the tactile, draw out subtle sensations. She clarifies:
“The idea of the title came from the fact of being a sort of between what is real and what is unreal and this disconnection … between the here and now and the feeling as perceived by your brain.”
![]() by Bénédicte Blondeau |
In that sense, Anesthesia is where the self begins to dissolve into space, where the frame becomes porous. The environments become uncannily quiet—the body is implied, the presence faint, the viewer invited to dwell in suspension.
This series marks the first move beyond the strictly autobiographical towards terrain that hovers between interior and exterior, presence and absence.
Ce qu’il reste (What Remains)
by Bénédicte Blondeau | by Bénédicte Blondeau |
With Ce qu’il reste, Blondeau shifts gear: the series juxtaposes human-made structures (ruins, architecture, transformation) with organic or aquatic life (jellyfish, geological formations) in order to reflect on scale and temporality. From her website:
“The series presents a juxtaposition between … images showing how human action has transformed the landscape, and … photographs showing organic and aquatic life on Earth.”
For Blondeau, the move is one of perspective: rather than viewing the human from within, she places the human amid what preceded and what will remain. We see the shock of human fragility against the slow machinations of nature. She states:
“If you look on a bigger scale then it becomes one second.”
As the viewer, we inhabit a space where the “man-made” is not dominant but contingent, transient; where jellyfish and rock folds become metaphors for endurance and change. In this series the editing, the sequencing, and the liminal spaces between images all become part of the narrative.
Importantly the book form of Ce qu’il reste is central to her vision: the photographs escape exhibition ephemerality and invite repeated contemplation. urbanautica.com
Ondes (Waves)
![]() by Bénédicte Blondeau |
Her latest major project, Ondes, digresses into energy, waves, the flows that animate life and matter. Inspired by a profound personal conjunction—the death of her father followed by her own pregnancy—Blondeau investigates “borders and entities of our being” via imagery of glaciers, volcanic territories, ultrasound recordings, drops of sea-water, biological forms. In her words:
“This double experience … led me to consider the borders and the entities of our being in a completely different way … I started to focus on all these waves of energy … transferring inside and outside.”
In Ondes, the scale becomes radical: from microscopic drops to geological formations; from inner womb to outer world. The photographic frame is both intimacy and expanse. The book was published by XYZ Books and has received significant recognition, including a photobook prize at the Belfast Photo Festival 2025.
In this body of work, Blondeau doesn’t just cross thresholds—she collapses them. The interior/exterior, life/death, self/world distinctions fade into a continuum of waves and matter.
Publishing & Collaboration
Both Ce qu’il reste and Ondes bear the imprint of a deep editorial collaboration with XYZ Books. Blondeau reflects candidly on how the first book’s dummy version was thoroughly reworked after input from the editors:
“They invited me to reconsider everything … they helped me to really understand what I was doing from the beginning in a way.”
The editing process became not a compromise but a clarification—from curating images, re-ordering, discovering stronger archival pictures, to refining the narrative. She emphasizes that now, for her second book, she arrived less with a fixed sequence and more with an appetite to build together from scratch—a flexibility born of experience.
![]() by Bénédicte Blondeau | by Bénédicte Blondeau |
Furthermore, she emphasises the significance of the book as object: format, paper, printing, binding—all of which affect how the work is encountered. “If people see thousands of books what will be the thing that makes their attention will go to your book?” she asks. For her, the form is part of the message.
The journey from self-publishing the dummy, to working with designer Joana Durães and editors Thiago Casanova & Pedro Guimarães, to the final object has been as much a part of the project’s meaning as the images themselves.
Photography in Public Space
Toward the end of our conversation I asked Blondeau to reflect on the place of photography in public spaces—the billboard, the mural, the outdoor screen—and its potential for cultural and civic expression.
She was cautious but optimistic. In an age of image-saturation, she argues, we have lost the ability to really look. She suggests that photographic works placed in public need to invite a slower mode of seeing:
“I think the context for this is important. … My work requires more … a protection that is also offered by the book format.”
In other words: while outdoor exhibitions are possible, they should avoid busyness, noise, distraction. For her contemplative photographs, a park, a courtyard or semi-enclosed outdoor space is more fitting than a busy urban thoroughfare. In terms of content she would not adjust the theme to fit the space, though she would adapt the format. For Blondeau the challenge is the same medium-paradox she has always embraced: using a still image to gesture toward the infinite, using the frame to dissolve boundaries rather than enforce them.
Looking Ahead
When asked what’s next, Blondeau remained open: video, sound-scapes, immersive installations all interest her—but only when they stay true to her photographic sensibility. The frame may shift, but so far the impulse remains: to translate perception, dilation, and the experience of being in a world that is more than we think.
“Photography is less about what is seen than about how we look,” she says.
Across Lieux intimes, Anesthesia, Ce qu’il reste and Ondes, her work insists on that interval between clarity and opacity: the place where the world and our inner landscape mirror one another.
Thank you again, Bénédicte—and thank you for your work, which encourages us all to slow down, expand our frame, and re-see the world.
Narrative Layers
Three people drive home from a weekend in the countryside — a couple, Nance and Don, and their friend Heath in the back seat. A small argument opens into something larger: where Don spent a night away, what it meant, and why it matters. The story unfolds almost entirely within this confined space, through alternating perspectives that blur speech, thought, and memory. Beneath its quiet realism runs a sharper current — the fatigue of repetition, the loneliness of awareness, and the stories people invent to keep their lives intact.
NOTHING NEW HERE
The Weight of Repetition
Every quarrel in Nothing New Here carries an echo — the sense that everything has already happened before. “All the same,” Nance says, “just a misunderstanding.” It is not memory that repeats but behavior: the need to stage the same dramas until their meaning wears thin. Repetition is a form of survival; it preserves rhythm when sense has gone missing. But it also erodes intimacy, turning connection into routine. The story shows how familiarity, when stretched too long, becomes its own form of blindness — how people keep performing the gestures of understanding long after they’ve forgotten what they were meant to express.
![]() by Jorge Silva The Cost of AwarenessHeath’s strength is perception, but perception here is not reward — it is exile. He sees the exhaustion behind the argument, the boredom under desire, the way communication becomes defense. Understanding, in this light, is not closeness but distance. To notice too much is to lose the comfort of simplicity. There’s a moment when he senses that the others are talking to protect their versions of reality — and he feels himself slip outside the circle of belonging. Awareness sharpens until it cuts. The story suggests that clarity carries its own loneliness: once you perceive the structure, you can no longer take part in the play. “The more sand has escaped from the hourglass of our life, the clearer we should see through it.” | ![]() by Jorge Silva The Language of DenialStagg’s characters live by small inventions — stories told to make experience bearable. They turn confusion into narrative, contradiction into anecdote. Even after the car accident, denial survives as grammar: “someone hit us and drove away.” The story captures this impulse with precision. We rewrite the past not to deceive others but to stay coherent to ourselves. The photograph of truth is never exposed in full light; it’s developed in shadows, one layer over another, until fiction and fact become indistinguishable. What remains is a fragile kind of peace — not honesty, but continuity. “We tell ourselves stories in order to live.” |
Coming Next:
Arcadia’s Second – 23 November 2025
Following its opening at Galeria Local in September, Arcádia returns this November for its second edition. The exhibition reflects on the fragile borders between the natural and the constructed city, inviting new audiences to experience its quiet tension firsthand.

“The ordinary is a very under-exploited aspect of our lives because it is so familiar.”
Martin Parr
Until next time,







