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Love Is A Losing Game

When Laura put these photos on her website I was immediately drawn to it. Although we are close friends, we have been living apart for a while and thus I barely testified the end of her relationship.  And yet these images were instilled with a kind of purity, a symbol of those remnants of feelings and memory flashes with which we remember not only the most remarkable moments of our lives but also our sensations.

Without knowing at first the order in which these photographs were produced, my own memory of a relationship I had heard of rather than witnessed created another narrative. Faces and characters different from the ones I knew so well were presented there.

When I showed the series to Isa, who did not know Laura personally – only the Laura exposed in these photos, her reaction was completely different. Another narrative was created. We started to question memory and how we ourselves remembered past situations; how images got mixed together, hop in and out of our minds without previous warning, often disconnected and not always truthfully – but definitely conceivable.

Laura Del Rey is a perfectionist in all that she does, especially with her photography. She always searches for the perfect frame  – from an Icelandic volcano to a lighthouse lost in the sea. Her technique is carefully tailored; there is always a great care towards lighting and a clear intent.

But Love is a Losing Game has some bereavement to it, which transforms it almost automatically into something intimate. Not only intimate for her, but also intimate for me, for Isa and for you, who is here.

We would like to invite you to take ownership of these images. And because relationship memories usually come with a soundtrack, we asked Laura to choose hers. You can see the images either in silence or with the playlist available on this link.

The selected series have two routes: I and II. Both videos contain the same photos, but organized in two different orders. They relate to the ways in which we experience memory – recollections are never exactly the same and are often shuffled. Without exactly knowing how they always manage to hit this one immaterial thing, the one that resides both nowhere and everywhere: the spectrum of an emotion. Or maybe it is the emotion itself? 

Isabel & Isabella