Don't they say the north wind brings change?

Its cold breath announces the new season, the onset of autumn and the end of warm days. Some await the change in weather with trepidation, the adventurous ready to set out after the heat and the lull of summer. For others, the cold wind signifies the end of good weather, of a light and carefree time. Isn't "dolce vita" a concept originating in the South after all?

The northern wind with its melancholy moods weighs heavy on sensitive minds. Bright days give way to darkness; the shadows loom ever larger, effectively governing the rhythm of nature and humans for many long months.

What about the northern lands? Does their landscape reflect the face of this dreaded wind?

In every good story, does not the wandering protagonist turn towards the North to orient themselves and find their way again? This statement is perfectly opposed to the romantic feeling of entropy that sets in with the falling of the first leaves. Such is the ambiguous reputation of the roaming wind with its chilly breath. The optimistic counterpoint defends itself, just as the pessimistic position has its fans. So what is the conclusion? Is the North perhaps a source of contrasts and contradictions?

But what are these confused thoughts going off in all directions?

Does the North have a geographic definition? It must have a beginning and an end? The place that comes closest to the strict definition of the term is the Arctic. But standing in the Arctic territory, your gaze must inevitably turn south. Does that mean the North is an invention of southern people? Seeing as they are the ones who can look north? This relativity causes confusion.

Only a dose of humour can calm these troubled thoughts. The viewer ought to simply turn their gaze in said cardinal direction and new perspectives will impose themselves. In this context, they all come from the NORTH.

Photographers - Part I: Jeroen Hofman, Christian Aschman, Paolo Verzone, Evgenia Arbugaeva
Photographers - Part II: Santeri Tuori, Donovan Wylie

English translation by N. Linden

Text: A. Meyer, Clervaux - cité de l'image