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Ventanas Nocturnas IV www.ventanasnocturnas.com

Ventanas Nocturnas IV

Marcus Loerbroks


Ventanas Nocturnas IV Karin


Š Marcus Loerbroks 2010. Please don't use any photographs, texts or parts of this catalog without my prior written consent. Thank you !


Ventanas Nocturnas It was five o’ clock of a cold and rainy afternoon in Amsterdam, when Jean Marc and I, still without knowing what we were doing in that place of the world, decided to give a look at the Van Gogh Museum. At the end of our journey through its incredible rooms and halls, we decided to explore a dark corridor in the lower plant of the building, and there, around a corner, we found a painting of Edward Hopper ( 1882-1967 ). It showed a woman, in underwear, bending to pick up something in her room, at nighttime. It looked as if someone was observing this scene of everyday intimacy from the building in front…it was a revelation…a “coup de foudre”. I knew immediately that Edward Hopper’s work was going to be the source of inspiration for a photographic work in my beloved Cartagena de Indias. This idea found its way through the “Ventanas Nocturnas” project, and with the help of some friends, producers and models, and the participation of a few boutique hotels and private houses in Cartagena, we were able to start this project with good energy and direction. The first shots, a series of images of women, in domestic situations, seen from the exterior, with a latent erotic tension, as if somebody was observing them from a distance, are already traveling through the world, revealing, once more, the voyeuristic impulse we all have. Marcus Loerbroks


KARIN. It’s over. I knew her for a very long time. I remember we used to play together when we were kids. I still feel those very long summer days we spent talking and dreaming…until one afternoon we discovered desire and pleasure. We had been neighbours for so long… we were very close when we were kids and then teenagers. For years we shared all our thoughts, dreams and fears, growing together. We encountered our sexuality when we were neither kids nor adults. And then, one day we fell in love with somebody else, and started getting less and less together. A few years later, she started dating an older guy, Juan. She was 23, he was 42. He was married and spent his time nightclubbing or at the beach where he owned a chiringuito. I started being worried for her. Even if we didn’t meet or talk often, I considered her as someone I cared for and hated seeing her unhappy. She wouldn’t see her friends anymore, she missed lots of classes at the Universidad de Cartagena and seemed to be always in a blue mood. I didn’t understand why she would continue to date this guy. Yesterday morning I stopped her on the staircase, when she was going to her classes. I told her at once all I thought. She told me that he was good to her and that she loved him and that he was going to get a divorce to be with her. Her eyes were looking at me in a strange way. Somehow I felt something was wrong with her. That night I was watching her getting ready to go out, as she used to do, late at night, to meet with him. Earlier in the afternoon I opened the door to a delivery kid with a big box for her. I guess it was the dress she was trying on. She was, as always, very sensual, but her new, and absolutely unusual for Cartagena, dark -grey dim ups made her irresistible. For the first time I felt jealous. I had some very negative and intense thoughts about this guy for an instant. It surprised me. I always try to reject negative thougths. Then, I remembered I just loved her as one can love some distant parent, nothing more. I tried to forget about it, prepared some lines of white and some Coca-Cola and went back to the exam I was studing. It was almost four in the morning when, in the silence of the night, I heard her walking and getting closer to the entrance door. I walked to the window and saw her silhouette getting closer. She wasn’t walking steady and had a bottle in her hands. When she got closer, I could see she was crying. It wasn’t hard to imagine why. It took her forever to open the door and get to her apartment. She looked desperate. I never saw her like that. She continued to cry and drink Black Label as if it was water. It took me a while to decide what to do. Did she need to be alone ? Years have gone since we used to talk for hours and I didn’t know if she would like to talk now, specially after what I told her in the stairs in the morning. It took a while to make up my mind and be bold enough to go to her apartment and knock at her door. But when I got there, it was open. I called. Nobody answered. I got inside and looked for her. It was empty…I went down to the patio, walked around, and noticed that the access door to the old colonial water tanks was open. She was there. I came just in time…


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Limited edition prints GyclĂŠe prints on fine art paper: 16'' x 23'' signed and numbered from 1 to 100 20'' x 28'' signed and numbered from 1 to 50

Marcus Loerbroks C 786 271-0477 M marcusloerbroks@yahoo.com W www.ventanasnocturnas.com

Š Marcus Loerbroks 2010 117 NE 1st Avenue Loft 901 Miami, Fl 33132 USA



Ventanas Nocturnas IV