Bridges is the story about a journey. What remains of the journey that brought my grandfather from the little village of Castilla where he was born, to work at the old chocolate factory in the industrial and divided postwar Berlin. A portrait of what I’ve found returning to the point he departed decades before and how I've discovered in the process the decay of the passage of time, which has been taking possesion of every corner of the two places in a completely antagonist way. For Berlin, it has been a succesful struggle to create their own identity, somewhat sordid and careless, while the little village of Spain has written its death letter. The beginning of an agony that will take it to disappear in a near future. Return to its primitive Nature.

So Bridges is a story about places. And how those places that one day my grandfather linked by bridges, has been separated forever with the loss of connection between them. There’s nothing in common anymore. The bridges that my grandfather created, broke when his journey came to an end, leaving him and his village in isolation, unable to recover these ties.

Bridges, in a broader and less physical meaning, unite us. But when those bridges are destroyed there’s nothing more than an imprisonment and degradation feeling. The sense of the passage of time. Something that has been lost. With this serie of photographies I’ve wanted to show how the reality of a lot of people, who have established links in the past, has been eroded, and finally completely forgotten. I didn’t want that to happen, so I built this last and weak bridge in memory of the past.