Plastic Heritage

In his own words

Plastic Heritage is the most intimate and the most unsettling series. It questions the legacy we pass on to our children — no longer only cultural or material, but chemical, invisible, almost genetic. Plastic has seeped into our lives to the point of becoming inseparable from us. It is in our clothes, our food, our bodies. It is with us at every stage of life, discreet but everywhere, until it blends into our daily existence.

Working on this series, I wanted to show how, generation after generation, a material we invented to make life easier ended up invading us, shaping us, suffocating us. The characters I created embody that tragic continuity: a grandfather, a grandmother, a father, a mother and a baby — five figures from a single family line, trapped beneath a translucent plastic veil. Their eyes, full of worry or resignation, look through that artificial film as if still searching for the air of the world.

These images are not only about pollution: they speak of memory, of what we hand down, of responsibility. The veil that binds them is also the one we will bequeath if we don’t change our habits. There is no dystopian future here, no science fiction: only a barely amplified truth, that of a world where even breath turns into plastic.

I often think of my children while making these images. Of their clear-sightedness, their anger, their efforts to live differently. And I can’t help asking myself: what legacy are we leaving them? A world saturated with materials nature cannot digest, an environment we have poisoned without meaning to. Plastic Heritage is an attempt to make that grip visible, to give shape to this painful question. It is probably the most personal series, because it speaks directly of the bond between parents and children, of the thread that links the generations and that plastic is slowly threatening to choke.