The contemporary city is a contradictory organism: at once a site of concentration and isolation. It is a territory of potential encounters in which thousands of bodies coexist without ever coming into meaningful contact. Buildings, streets, and interiors cease to function as mere settings and become material manifestations of a collective condition shaped by speed, anonymity, and distance.

Abyssurbs does not represent the city; it interrogates the conditions of inhabiting it. Rather than describing what the city is, the project examines what it means to exist within it. The city emerges as a cathedral of concrete and glass, a honeycomb of superimposed cells in which each illuminated window discloses a life largely indifferent to the one beside it. It is an anthill, but one stripped of the collective intelligence of ants. Here, no one remembers the way back to a common nest; each individual constructs, in isolation, a private labyrinth of asphalt and uncertainty.

The project situates itself within a photographic practice that rejects the image as a passive reflection of reality, treating it instead as a means of inquiry and critical perception. Its visual language emerges from the multitude and its silence, from urban noise that does not necessarily produce communication, and from physical proximity that fails to become human intimacy. The camera enters the abyss rather than observing it from a position of exteriority, inhabiting it from within and adopting the discretion of its subjects: anonymous, transient, and never posed, they move through the frame without awareness of being observed. Each image leaves a question unresolved: are we, in fact, capable of recognizing the other?