In the introduction to his book of photos Le seul visage (The only face, 1984), Nerve Guibert defined his relationship to photography in terms of resistance, as a “reluctant, prudent form, distrustful of practicing it.” Imbued, perhaps, with this cautious practice, Guibert’s images fall into the idea of absence, into a a certain sense of lightness, of dreaming. Without a doubt, it is not a definitive, excluding absence; on the contrary, the objects portrayed point to the presence of an Other which, without always being visible, may appear at any moment. Such is the case in those photographs that