In the horizon of a street that disappear, the inprints left on a graffity wall or the tight face of a motionless pedestrian, Jean-Pierre Favreau questions the city. Multiple, various, it remains, singular here. No one needs to know where we are, in New York, Havana, Rome or Tokyo; we are traveller of the edges, of the fringes, at the borders between light and dark. The thin thread which connects each city, it is this moment of madness perceived in an attitude, this expression of abandonment found in another; the share of darkness encounted at the corner of a street, a spoke of light seized at the foot of a building. The places change, loneliness remains intact, the interrogation without answer, the search in becoming. Then, it is necessary to go further or return, catch again a lost glance, try to capture a passing thought; then beyond, discover the strange when the city shows decorations of Finistère. As we go along, we become this walker that the photographer can behold image after image.