The blues were made on location at the lake during my last return just before the pandemic. The diver jumped without planning, the camera held by a timer; the work was left to chance. Six photographs of a man entering the water at night, indigo throughout, the only light from the moon and the spray of droplets at the point of entry.
The diver's head is always cut at the surface. The body appears to be entering from above and floating just below it at the same time — the lake's two states held in one image. The series occupies its own register within Ode to the Lake Sacalaia: where the rest of the project is grayscale and grainy, the blues are clear, saturated, color. The interruption is the point.
Six photographs saturated in shades of indigo interrupt the grayscale images … The darkness is broken by small highlights: the moon, the little hairs on the diver's limbs, the muscles of his torso, the spray of droplets and ripples on the water at the point of entry. The diver's head is always cut off at the water's surface. The body appears to be simultaneously entering from above and floating just below it.— Rachel Harris-Huffman, Hyperallergic, 2023
