As wind travels across the sky, over the forests and seas, over rooftops and urban landscapes, change invariably scores its path. Occasionally, a wind comes along that demands attention even in the comfort of our secure homes.

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This photographic series began with such a moment: a strong, gusting wind causing the satellite dish to struggle to maintain its television signal. The image began to falter, fragment, and dissolve into pixels. The resulting interference disrupted the broadcast of a concert celebrating the great Italian maestro, Claudio Abbado, who had passed away a few days earlier. 

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At first, the interruption was simply an annoyance. Yet, as the broadcast continued to break apart, something about the coincidence began to feel strangely poignant. Here was the music of a conductor who was no longer alive, being transmitted into the room, while the very signal carrying his image and music was itself beginning to disappear.

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Photographed entirely from the television screen, each image preserves this fleeting encounter. The photographs record a particular space-time interval shaped by the wind, the satellite dish, the television signal, and the music of Abbado.

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What began as a technical failure became an unexpected visual event, unstable, fragmented, and ephemeral. In the faltering transmission, absence became visible. The disruption became part of the performance, and the failure of the signal became, perhaps, its own unfinished message. 

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