In Praise of Double Exposures

There is always something special about double-exposed images. Some happen by accident and others by design. They all invariably conjure a twisted logic. Whether we want them to be quirky, funny or striking, we must admit there is a certain element of magic in a double exposure, unintended or not. The couple who mingle with another couple inside and outside the reflection of a bakery store's front window; the cars moving closer to us as we stand in the middle of the road to photograph them as they come out, as if they were slowly materializing ghosts dreamed by clouds, or the man who becomes part of a rock and a segment of sky against which he stands, all-consumed in his desire that we appreciate his body in a sunny beach in summer. They all contain an element of the ethereal, they are photographs somewhat untouchable and difficult to define. Sometimes we praise our good fortune when the images turn out to be exciting and not weird concoctions designed by fate. And sometimes we try hard enough to make them as if they were that way designed by nature, as the two lower images are: images produced by putting together two negatives to create an unclassifiable image with which we will try to impress friends and passerby alike.