FANTÔMES

GHOSTS was initially exhibited in Montreal in 2024 and then re-exhibited with the help of the Canadian Society of Cinematographers, Cineground and Leitz in 2025-2026.

Yours might be white, smiling. Translucent, flying. Vapor, like a thin mist. It makes it easier to hide around corners. Easier to peek through the curtains, sideways. They work at night, mostly, leaving secrets for us to discover the following day. They make old and worthless things their own. They make the floorboards creak. That’s how they get by. Ghosts do exist among us, hiding. They also ask questions of us.

“But why would mine hide?” you’d say. “What did they do? Something terrifying, horrific even? Are they deserving of the bad rep they’re getting? Who are they? Are they your family? Who is going to take care of them? Feed them? Clean them? Are you going to ignore them like everyone else? Why don’t you go outside with them? Go! Look how nice it is outside today. Show them around our neighbourhood. Walk around with them. Go to the pizza place, for a slice. Maybe walk through the park? Go to the bookstore? A hike, even! Get to know them a bit. Ask them questions. It’s good to get to know them. It’s the right thing to do. Ask them where they’ve been, and what they’ve seen there. What they like, and also, what they hate. What TV shows have they been watching? What? You haven’t seen this one yet? You have to see this.”

I forgot to mention how much ghosts like to tell stories. It’s one of their favourite pastimes.

“Then, take the bus. Fill this bus with ghosts. As many as you can find. Try to choose seats all close to one another, and you can sit right in the center, that way you get to talk to all of them. That’ll make you the center of interest. Your time with the ghosts is precious. You don’t have all the time in the world, you know. At one point, they’ll have to go back home. They’re tired too, just like you are. Yes, they have a home as well. They’ve had a long day. With all that you’ve done together. Ghosts have to rest as well. It was a hard hike, after all. You’d think they can just go on forever, but they can’t. They have to go back home. To rest, and whatnot. It’s the right thing to do.”

There is loneliness in these pictures. Someone is hiding in every single one of them. All these photographs—I thought they were all of different places, but really, it’s all the same place. Just with different ghosts.

“Look how they’ve grown. Look. Look. Take a picture.”

And you’re stuck with this realization. It welds itself to you. They’re hiding. Right around the corner. You knew it all along. They meddle. They tamper. They connive. There’s an urgency in these pictures. They’re all of the same place.

“Why are you so sad?” says one of the ghosts.

“This is my stop,” I answer.

The bus leaves. I wave at them from outside.