At the bottom of a drawer in a bookshelf I never use lived a small leather-bound book, just 4 x 5 cm.
What this book contains are small thumbnail prints, memories from when I was four: the only time I ever lived with my father. The term ‘father’ must be used loosely here. My mother and I called him Pepe.
We moved to the south of Spain to live with him in 2001, attempting to integrate him into our lives and my upbringing. He was small, bald and Spanish, with a hidden temper and a fear of responsibility.
He had fled from his previous family: an ex-wife and three daughters left in Seville, unaware of my small, fairly new existence.
I remember a few things from the short time we lived there; scattered fragments of memory once forgotten now resurfacing along with the tiny book and the photos within it.
We left Spain after a year, a failed attempt at being a family.
His whereabouts are since unknown.
Upon finding this book, twenty years later, I became determined to travel back to the quiet village that feels so vaguely familiar. The images within triggered unstoppable memories, yet travel restrictions brought about by the pandemic have limited all freedom.
I wish more than anything to return, but am currently unable to. This photobook, ‘From Darkness,’ is a response to my frustration and explores the subtleties of the city, noticed while forcefully passing time, stuck in limbo between past and present.
I began wandering the streets at night, using the emptiness of the suburbs to reflect and find beauty in the banal, exploring the intertwining dualities of absence and presence. With so much enveloping concrete, I found refuge in the small facets of hope where life flourished against all odds.
Yet all the while, I was effortlessly aware of the unstoppable passing of time.
One day I will return to the sun-scorched land that is my home.
Yet for now, the small leather-bound book remains closed.
Cassian Gray, March 2021
Working mostly with people and landscapes, Cassian explores his connection to others and seeks to elevate his surroundings through image making. He uses the camera as a tool to instigate encounters – documenting individuals, places and communities that would otherwise pass unnoticed.