Issue 31: Encoded Light

Perception, Structure and the Ontology of Circulation

GALERIA LOCAL

Welcome — and thank you for reading.

Across thirty editions, this newsletter has developed a set of recurring concerns: perception as structure, stillness and imminence, circulation as a defining property of the photographic object, authorship within systems, and the role of context in shaping meaning.

This issue gathers those threads around a single axis: the ontology of the photographic object in motion. It revisits perception, structure, and circulation as interdependent forces — how images appear, how they persist, and how they travel.

This is the first of three issues that consolidate our philosophy of photography so far and extend it toward three specific reflections: hardware and infrastructure, the future forms photography may take, and the economic model that sustains it.

The Narrative Layers section turns toward the material infrastructure of the so-called immaterial image — encoded light, networks, transmission — and asks what it means for photography to move at the speed of light.

—Jorge

Perception, Structure and Circulation

After completing the trilogy on Leibniz, this felt like the right moment to take stock. Across the last 30 issues, this newsletter has moved through philosophy, photography, exhibitions, interviews, and personal reflection. Certain ideas have resurfaced repeatedly, approached from different angles, carrying themselves across contexts and forms.

One of those recurring ideas is perception as a structured event. Not perception as passive reception, but as something shaped by conditions — framing, distance, duration, tension, context. Whether while reading philosophers, photographing gardens, or thinking about exhibitions, the same intuition kept returning: that seeing unfolds when I am present, receptive, and willing to stay with what appears. Photography, in this sense, has been an act of recognition — noticing moments of alignment between inner states and external forms, and responding to that encounter. 

Another persistent thread is the tension between stillness and imminence. A photograph arrests time, yet it often carries the sensation that something is about to happen — a gesture unfinished, a word not yet spoken, a moment suspended just before it unfolds. This kind of stillness is not static; it is charged.  

At the same time, photography is inseparable from reproducibility. A photograph can exist on different supports — paper, screen, projection — without losing its identity. In digital form, this becomes explicit: the image is no longer bound to a single material surface, but persists through circulation. What travels is not merely information, but a recognisable object — one that can be shared, revisited, and encountered in multiple places and moments.

This raises a quiet but important question: what kind of object is a digital photograph? It is not purely material, yet it is not reducible to an idea. It occupies an intermediate state — stable enough to be recognised, mutable enough to inhabit different forms. Its meaning does not depend on a single surface, but emerges through repeated encounters across contexts. In this sense, circulation is not an external condition imposed on photography; it is one of its defining properties.

Leibniz offered a way to think about structure without domination, order without central control, and multiplicity without chaos. That formulation stayed with me because it names a tension I recognise both in photography and in public space. Different perspectives do not need to be unified under a single narrative in order to coexist meaningfully. What matters is not neutrality, but the creation of conditions where contradiction can appear without being forced into resolution. In that sense, an exhibition — like language itself — becomes a space where differences are articulated, tested, and sometimes aligned, without being reduced. Structure does not erase plurality; it allows it to remain legible.

The ideas presented here have persisted across the essays, interviews, and photographic projects gathered in this newsletter, evolving through shifts in context, form, and emphasis.

Narrative Layers

When we speak about digital photography, we often describe it as immaterial. Images circulate, migrate from screen to screen, appear instantly and vanish just as quickly. The file seems weightless.

ENCODED LIGHT - THE ONTOLOGY OF THE MOVING IMAGE

Yet a digital photograph is encoded light stored in silicon, transmitted through fiber, powered by electrical grids, displayed through hardware engineered at massive scale. It depends on processors, servers, cooling systems, screens, and energy infrastructures that remain invisible while the image appears effortless. Where the printed photograph was materially inseparable from paper, ink, texture, and scale, the digital photograph relocates that materiality into networks and systems. Its surface feels clean and frictionless, but its existence is sustained by a dense physical architecture.

by Jorge Silva

This architecture is not external to the image. It conditions its appearance. The screen becomes the visible interface, but behind it lies a layered structure of computation, transmission, and energy that makes presentation possible. The exhibition space therefore extends beyond walls into devices and networks. What was once architectural containment now includes technological containment.

“The digital photograph is not immaterial — it is encoded light sustained by infrastructure.”

The decisive transformation is logistical and temporal. A printed photograph requires transport, insurance, storage, and physical displacement. A digital photograph travels instantly. What once depended on material circulation now depends on transmission. The cost of movement collapses; the range of appearance expands. Photography now operates at a scale and velocity previously unavailable to it. This acceleration reorganizes the ecology of the medium. The image is no longer tied to a single surface or location. It can appear wherever a compatible interface exists.

Digital photography is therefore structurally independent from any particular support. It is encoded information — a configuration that can be rendered on multiple surfaces without being exhausted by any of them. Its identity is not anchored to paper nor to a specific screen, but to a stable relational structure that remains recognizable across manifestations. The transformation lies in velocity, infrastructure, and the expanded conditions under which images circulate.

by Jorge Silva

“What appears frictionless on the screen rests on processors, cables, servers, and energy grids.”

Context belongs to photography as one of its axioms. The meaning of an image emerges from relations within the frame — light, proportion, tension, interval — but also from relations beyond it. Sequence shapes interpretation. Placement modifies emphasis. Architecture, scale, proximity to other works, and the atmosphere of a space all participate in how the photograph is read. Internal structure and external environment form a single perceptual field.

Digital circulation expands this condition by accelerating and multiplying the environments in which an image can appear. The speed of transmission and the range of possible supports generate a broader field of contextual relations. A photograph can inhabit a gallery, a website, a projection, a private screen, a public façade — each activating different layers of meaning. Velocity and multiplicity become structural features of how context operates.

If digital supports eventually replace paper, the transformation will concern photography’s mode of persistence. A printed photograph persists through material presence — through duration on a wall, through physical survival. A digital image persists through replication, transmission, and storage across distributed systems. The ontology of the photograph today lies in this tension between relational stability — the internal structure that makes the image recognisable — and infrastructural mobility — the systems that carry it across space and time.

by Jorge Silva

Photographing The Internet

Over the past decade, Trevor Paglen has turned his attention to the physical infrastructure of the digital world: undersea cables, surveillance satellites, data centers, military networks, classified architectures. The cloud becomes a landscape. The network becomes a territory. Paglen photographs the hardware of the immaterial.

If you are curious about how this work is constructed, this behind-the-scenes documentary is revealing:

Coming Next:

New interview series

A new interview series is in preparation — conversations with voices from the international photography world as well as thinkers and practitioners from related fields. I’ll share more details as soon as the first conversations are ready to unfold.

The ordinary is a very under-exploited aspect of our lives because it is so familiar.”

Martin Parr

Until next time,